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AN IVY VINE 


And How It Grew. 




AN IVY VINE, 

And How It Grew. 


BY 

ANNIE E. WILSON, 

VV 

Author o£ “A Jewish Maiden,” “Love’s Leading,” “Compendium of 
United States History and Literature,” and “ Handy 
Helps in English History.” 



“Influence is the echo of our words and 
actions in the hearts of others.” — Anon. 



RICHMOND. VA.: 

The Presbyterian Committee of Publication. 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGR€8$, 
Two Comee Reocivsd 

DEC. 24 1902 

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Copyright 

BY 


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A. L. PHILLIPS, 
Secretary of Publication. 

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SWaPPERSON, ‘ C ‘ 


Richmond, Va. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Wno Planted It, 

CHAPTER II. 

Further Acquaintance with the Ivy Leaves, 

CHAPTER III. 

The Crowing of Vines and Leaves, 


Page. 

9 

17 

28 


CHAPTER IV. ‘ 

The Ivy Vine Reaching Down Deeper, . . . 38 

CHAPTER V. 

Broken Tendrils, 40 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Vine Wounded in its Leaf, 50 

CHAPTER VII. 

Trouble in the Atmosphere, 08 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Loving Ministry of the Ivy Leaves, 70 


CHAPTER IX. 

Reaching Out its Tendrils to Double Mountain, 01 


6 


Contents. 


CHAPTER X. 

Breaking Ground for Planting, 103 

CHAPTER XI. 

Uncle Felix, 113 

CHAPTER Xll. 

Uncle Felix as a “Mischief Monger,” 121 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The Bruised Ivy Leaf, 133 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A College Affair, 143 

CHAPTER XV. 

Afterwards, 155 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A Slight Breeze Among the Ivy Leaves, 105 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The JvY Leaves Give an Account of Themselves, 178 

CHAPTER XVII 1. 

A Few Surprises, 188 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Pruning of the Ivy Vine, 109 

CHAPTER XX. 


Fresh Growth of the Ivy Vine, 


212 


Contents. 


CHAPTER XXL 

The Ivy Leaves Still Busy, 221 

CHAPTER XXI 1. 

A Tiiokx Among the Ivy Leaves, 227 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Hugh, 237 

CHAPTER XXIV, 

Uncertain Ffiuits, 240 

CHAPTER XXV. 

A Gala Night for the Ivy Leaves, 2.50 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Under the Church Window, 270 

CHAPTER XXVIL 

Bitter Berries, 283 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Water for the Thirsty Leaves, 204 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Striking Root in New Ground, 303 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Drifting Back, 313 

CHAPTER XXXI . 

Gossiping Among the Ivy Leaves, 323 



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AN IVY VINE. 


CHAPTER I. 

Who Planted It? 

Ask God to give thee skill 
In comfort’s art, 

That thou may’st consecrated be, 

And set apart 
Unto a life of sympathy ; 

I^or heavy is the weight of ill 
In every heart. 

And comforters are needed much. 

Of Christlike touch. 

— Anna E. Hamilton. 

J UST as soon as Snnday-school was out the 
four heads went together as by a single im- 
pulse. These four heads belonged, respectively, 
to two pairs of sisters, Berta and Effie Blair, 
and Estelle and Agnes Graham. Perhaps it was 
because they w’ere in the same Sunday-school 
class that they were so often like-minded when 
there was any good deed to be done. Wiatever 
tlie cause or explanation, they were chattering 
like so many magpies now, and, of course, all 
at the same time, girl fashion. 


10 


The Ivy Vine. 


Somewhere in the lesson or the closing exer- 
cises had come the message to them, ^^Let us not 
live for ourselves, but strive, each one to do 
something to help others, or make them hap- 
pier/’ 

am sure we can find things to do every 
day, and all we’ve got to do is to do them,” said 
Berta with a kind of queenly toss of her dainty 
head and a radiant light in her clear, sweet eyes. 

Effie was looking earnestly off into the possi- 
bilities. 

suppose there are plenty of things to do, 
but the question is will we he sure to see them 
and — to feel like doing them.” 

^^Let’s form a society and get Miss Edmonia 
Morrison to help us,” proposed Estelle, with a 
shy, deprecating manner. 

^^That would be fine !” exclaimed Berta and 
Agues, in a breath. 

. ^^Yes — I expect it would,” spoke Effie, more 
deliberately ; ^ffhen we could help each other to 
remember and watch for the opportunities.” 

They discussed the pros and cons with all the 
energy and animation of early girlhood, and 
went to their separate homes with minds fully 
made up to organize into a little band or society, 
provided they could persuade Miss Morrison to 
be its first President. 


The Ivy Vine. 


11 


Miss Morrison was their teacher in Sunday- 
school, and a most estimable young lady. In 
fact, her girls firmly believed there wasn’t any- 
body else quite her equal in beauty, wisdom and 
goodness. I am not sure but they were right. 
She had eyes like big purple pansies, the dark 
lashes giving them the look of having been dis- 
covered in a shady, dewy nook; her hair was 
only an ordinary brown, but the girls w^ent wild 
over the ^^cute little kinks and curls” that would 
slip out and laugh and play around her brow 
and neck like merry, irrepressible little cupids, 
no matter how straight she brushed them back. 
Agnes did not make so much of the kinks and 
curls, because she had hair much of the same 
fashion. She thought her greatest charm, next, 
of course, to her eyes, was the way her color 
would come and go with every emotion, like a 
curtain of pink rose-petals drawn back and 
forth over lovely views. As for Miss Morrison’s 
wisdom and goodness ? She certainly had the 
wisdom of a loving heart, and the goodness of 
a pure, high-idealed young spirit. 

There wasn’t the slightest chill thrown over 
their project in having to unfold it to her. Even 
shy Estelle felt sure in advance of her sympathy, 
and talked almost as freely as the rest. 

They had gone in a body to Miss Morrison’s 


12 


The Ivy Vine. 


home, and were happy to find her at leisure to 
listen to their plans. 

As it was a warm September day, she took 
them out under the shade of the trees on the 
lawn, and, the girls all protesting they would 
rather sit on the grass, she let them have their 
way, and did not insist upon chairs, for, al- 
though the summer was ended and the outer 
leaves of the trees already showed the effect of 
the change in soft touches of gold and crimson, 
it was still dry and summer-like as long as the 
sun shone. She herself sat down in their midst 
with a caressing word or look or touch of the 
hand for each. She changed her position 
slightly before they began to unfold their plans, 
saying, with a sweet, earnest smile, always 
like to have my face to Double Mountain when 
I start out on a new path ; it gives me strength 
and inspiration.’’ Agues smiled up at her in a 
comprehending way, with a glance of kindred 
affection at the square-topped block of blue so 
clearly outlined on the fair evening sky. ^^It 
tells me so many things,” Miss Morrison went 
on, ^^The two mountains, neither so very much 
in themselves, merged into one, make such a 
grand, beautiful sight — ^there’s for our united 
work, you see. And then” — her hands involun- 
tarily folded over each other and her head bent 


The Ivy Vine. 


13 


with a reverent motion — ^‘1 will lift up mine 
eves unto the hills, from whence cometh mv 
help V’ 

There was a thoughtful pause all round. 
Then she looked back to them brightly. ^^N^ow 
for our talk. What scheme is brewing in your 
busy young brains and hearts V’ 

So they told her all about it, each adding a 
touch of color from her own personality. 

^^Something of the same kind has been shap- 
ing itself in my own mind,’’ she said, thought- 
fully, and she could not have said anything 
which would have given them more sure encour- 
agement. 

They decided to meet once a week, choosing 
Saturday as the day in order that it might be 
kept up all the year round ; and to make some 
money with which to give such help as might 
be needed among the very poor of the town. The 
next Saturday was to be the beginning, and they 
were to bring all the bits of silk and pretty 
woollen scraps and help each other decide what 
salable articles might be manufactured out of 
them. While sewing, they could discuss ways 
and means of disposing of their work. 

^^But what are we going to call ourselves?” 
questioned Miss Morrison, as the meeting 
seemed about to come to a satisfied finish. 


14 


The Ivy Vine. 


A recollective passed around the circle, 

as if conscious of having forgotten a very im- 
portant part of the proceedings. 

thought of ^We Four,’ ’’ spoke up Berta, 
promptly, ^^and we might take for our badge a 
four-leaf clover,^’ she added, enthusiastically. 

They were all watching Miss Edmonia’s face 
to see what she thought of it. ^Tt certainly is 
appropriate,’’ she smiled, ^^and beautifully sig- 
nificant, because you are such a dear, harmo- 
nious little quartette of workers; then four is 
a complete, four-square number — and yet — ” 
she paused, with a smiling glance at Berta — 
^^there is an old juvenile saw, AVe four and no 
more,’ which, I fear, might, with some who 
heard, modify it in a way we would not wish — 
give it an exclusive sound ; you know, we do not 
want to be selfish — ” 

^^Yes,” said Estelle, ^^there’s Olive Baylor. 
We want to get her to join right away. She’s in 
our class, and she always goes with us in every- 
thing.” 

^^Exactly. I was thinking of her, and wonder- 
ing if you were going to leave out my one other 
girlie.” 

^^How would We Four and More’ do?” sug- 
gested Agmes. 

thought of ^Burden Bearers,’ ” said Effie, 
^Tor that is what we want to be.” , 


The Ivy Vine. 


15 


^^Yes, that is what we want to be,” Miss Ed- 
nionia spoke, musingly. 

^‘But,” interposed Estelle, as if answering a 
not altogether satisfied expression on her teach- 
er’s face — ^^biit need we tell everybody what we 
intend to be — it would hardly seem like — ^not 
letting our left hand know what our right hand 
doeth.’ ” 

Miss Morrison laid her hand on the girl’s with 
a gentle, encouraging pat, and waited for further 
suggestions. 

^^It’s your turn noAV, Miss Edmonia !” chimed 
in several voices. 

Miss Morrison had brought pencil and paper 
out wdth her in case they should be needed. 
Four pairs of eyes followed her fingers as they 
tightened their grasp on the pencil and watched 
with wide-awake interest as she Avrote 
then added a ^^y,” and meditatively outlined an 
ivy vine, leaf by leaf. ^^Ivy Band !” called out 
the eager young voices. 

^^Or simply, ^Ivy Vine,’ ” she said. ^^Hoav 
would that do ? The numerical — symbolic of 
the inception in these four heads — ^v^ould make 
a pretty design for a stick-pin, and you can 
always get a fresh ivy leaf to go with it.” 

They all acquiesced as delightedly as if it had 
been their own suggestion, as, indeed. Miss Mor- 


16 


The Ivy Vine. 


rison soon proved it to be. ^^Yoiir clover leaf, 
Berta, suggested the still more significant ivy, 
with its beautiful evergreen ministry of adorn- 
ment and protection from winter winds and sum- 
mer sun;’’ 

The ingenuity of bright young brains discov- 
ered many other sweet similes in the combined 
symbol, and went home in a gale of girl-life 
ecstasy over their proposed work. lYor was it 
the novelty only. The sincere desire to be help- 
ful to others will always warm the heart, tem- 
porarily if it be only a desire, pemianently if the 
desire be carried out in kindly deeds. 

Olive Baylor, who had happened to be absent 
from Sunday-school the Sunday the seed of the 
Ivy Vine was sown, was promptly informed of 
the project, and showed by her presence at the 
second meeting how heartily she was in sym- 
pathy with the idea. She had demurred a little 
at first over the winter mud and the difficulty 
she might have in getting to town, now that they 
were working on the road, and every little rain 
made the red clay soft and sticky; but ^The 
boys,” her brothers, had promised to take her 
in behind them on horseback, if everything else 
failed, and the girls said there was no use trying 
to have it without her. So she readily agreed to 
enter her best endeavors with the rest. 


CHAPTER II. 


Eurtiier Acquaintance with the Ivy 
Leaves. 

Within this leaf, to every eye 
So little worth, doth hidden lie 
IMost rare and subtle fragrancy. 

— S. Wither force. 

S EVERAL meetings of the Ivy Leaves were 
taken up with discussions as to Avhat to 
make and how to dispose of what they should 
make. The only visible work which had been 
done was in the shape of pocket pin-cushions. 
Shapes, perhaps I should have said, for there 
were circles and crescents, hearts and diamonds, 
boots and shoes, and ivy leaves, of course — 
everything, in fact, which could be fairly repre- 
sented with only length and breadth, and such 
measure of height or thickness as could be af- 
forded by two thicknesses of pasteboard. 

don’t see how we are going to find out the 
best way of selling things,” said Effie Blair, 
‘^^except by trying first one way and then another. 
I am sure any man would buy one of these pin- 
cushions if we asked him. I think I shall take 
2 


18 


The Ivy Vine. 


my two and try.’’ .Which decision settled the 
question for the time, each agreeing to sell what 
she herself* had made. 

As to the price — ^AVhy not let’s get whatever 
we can,” suggested Agnes. 

^Wes, I intend to get a quarter for every one 
I make,” declared Berta, with that witching toss 
of the head which would be very apt to get it if 
she asked for it. 

^^Then some might get more than others,” de- 
murred Estelle, conscious that she would most 
likely be the one to fall behind. 

Miss Morrison had listened to these discus- 
sions with only sufficient joining in to assure her 
fullest attention, and always with her own sweet 
smile of interest. At this point her face was a 
little grave, and she spoke : ^ -I think, dearies, we 
must be guided in our price chiefly by the rules 
of common honesty, and take care ffiot to do evil 
that good may come.’ The pin-cushions will 
hardly be worth more than ten cents to the pur- 
chasers, and we will sell all the more by being 
perfectly fair, don’t you think ?” 

Mi^s Morrison had such a tactful way of add- 
ing ^ffier little word,” as she called it, that her 
suggestions always carried without a dissenting 
voice. 

On the way home Estelle was a bit long-faced 


The Ivy Vine. 


19 


and Agnes quiet. They had never tried to sell 
anything before in their lives, and they did not 
exactly know how to go about it. Somehow, 
Berta and Effie always know how to do things 
sighed Estelle, despondingly. wish they had 
asked us to go with them when they sell their 
pin-cushions.^’ 

^AVhat’s to hinder our asking them to let us 
spoke up Agnes, quickly. 

“Do you think they would 

“Why, of course; why should they object?” 

They concluded to follow the girls home and 
at once make their request. It did not take long 
to overtake Berta and Effie, but only to find 
them enviably jubilant over having already sold 
their stock in trade. They had met a party of 
college students whom they knew, just returned 
for the fall term, and sold all they had in hand 
at once. 

“I haven’t even one left to sell to father,” 
Berta told them, in a half-tone of regret. 

“You can make another one for father,” said 
Effie. “Indeed, we will have to make and sell 
a great many more than two apiece if we expect 
to earn money enough to accomplish any good 
vT)rk.” 

Shy Estelle’s countenance had drooped with 
disappointment when she found they were too 


20 


The Ivy Vine. 


late to profit by the example of the older, more 
self-reliant girls. But the hint of selling to 
father came in with the timely encouragement 
needed. Their father bought one for himself 
and also one for their brother Julian, leaving 
them one apiece to sell. But Effie, without 
knowing it, had dropped another small seed of 
suggestion, on the strength of which they went 
to work to make more pin-cushions before going 
out of the house to sell. They had fixed upon 
Friday as the momentous day of their first at- 
tempt, and had come down all ready to go, each 
with three little beauties exactly alike as to 
shape, but of different color, carefully protected 
from dust or finger-marks in one of their father’s 
business envelopes. They were simply wild to 
show them to Miss Edmonia before they passed 
out of their hands, but they knew there would 
be no opportunity to see her until Saturday, and 
they thought they would rather have the money 
to carry to the meeting. 

As they came down the front stairway, chat- 
ting over their work with a quiet, bubbling 
pleasure, their mother called from the kitchen. 

I am sorry to have to confess that Estelle 
made a wry face, and Agnes brought her lips 
together with a queer little snap that savored 
strongly of insurrection. 


The Ivy Yine. 


21 


just knew mamma was going to want us 
for something,” said Estelle, while Agnes fol- 
lowed with even more reluctant feet. 

^^And where do you two think you are going 
now questioned Mrs. Graham, a trifle se- 
verely. ^^You will have to stay at home and 
help me, whatever were your intentions, for 
Sarah has gone home to her sick child, and your 
father has invited two of the new students to tea. 
You two girls are old enough now to he of some 
assistance to me, and cannot expect to frolic all 
the time, especially while Janet is away, and 
I am trying to get along without a nurse to lessen 
expenses. I have had Clara in my arms ever 
since dinner, and have just gotten her to sleep.” 

^Alamma, we didn^t know Sarah had gone,” 
explained Agnes, defensively. 

^^And we were not going for frolic, but to sell 
our pin-cushions,” added Estelle. ^^Of course 
we won’t go if you don’t want us to,” in a tone 
resigned, hut not altogether pleasant. 

^^Sell pin-cushions, is it ! And that’s the way 
you expect to earn your club money — peddling 
pin-cushions at a dime apiece !” Somehow, this 
whiff of sarcasm made the whole thing seem so 
contemptible and absurd it sapped every particle 
of Estelle’s enthusiasm for the time. And, in 
answer to her mother’s question, ^^How many 


22 


The Ivy Vine. 


have you sold she admitted, reluctantly, ^^Only 
the two papa bought.’’ 

^^We haven’t tried to sell any others yet,” said 
Agnes, petulantly. Mrs. Graham glanced up at 
her keenly, but said nothing, and Agnes turned 
and went upstairs to put her hat away. Estelle 
had already thrown hers on a chair, and, at her 
mother’s bidding, commenced to measure out 
materials for a cake. 

The truth is, Mrs. Grahaui had a great deal 
of pride, even that foolish pride which pays 
undue regard to ^^what people* will think.” She 
did not altogether relish the idea of her daugh- 
ters ^^peddling pin-cushions,” as she had called 
it, to the college students, though she did not 
like to express her prejudice openly, as the 
Blairs and Olive Baylor were doing the same. 
Still, though she did not express her feeling 
oj^enly, her daughters instinctively felt her dis- 
approbation, and their ardor was cooling under 
it irresistibly. 

^AVhat are you going to do with your money 
after you have made it ?” presently asked Mrs. 
Graham, lifting the spoon from the frothing 
eggs to rest her anu a moment. 

don’t know, certainly — ^lielp the poor 
people, someway, I suppose,” Estelle responded, 
dully; while Agnes — ^Tt doesn’t look as if we 


The Ivy Vine. 23 

would have much to spend/’ with sharp em- 
phasis. 

Mrs. Graham looked quickly from Agnes — 
sullen, almost defiant — to Estelle^ — discontented, 
downcast — and said, in a very displeased tone, 
and that peculiar expression .in the snapping 
black eyes, and the lips curving upward to the 
right, which the members of her family most 
dreaded, am sorry I called you back from 
what was of so much greater importance than 
helping your mother — and — ” sharpening as she 
went on, ^det me tell you one thing. If your 
club (with emphatic scorn) is going to make 
you cross and impertinent whenever your plans 
happen to be interfered with, and cause you to 
forget that your first duty is to me, you h^^ bet- 
ter get out of it as quickly as possible. How, 
let us think no more of it at present ; there is too 
much else to think of of more importance.” 

Mrs. Graham knew well how to enforce such 
an autocratic injunction, and they were soon 
conversing pleasantly on other topics, and the 
little puff of ill-humor had vanished like a sum- 
mer cloud. 

They were in the full swim of cakes and 
waffles and fried chicken when Julian came in. 

Julian was Professor Graham’s child by a 
former marriage, as Janet was of Mrs. Graham. 


24 


The Ivy Vine. 


The boy’s early motherlessness had been disas- 
trous to him. And though such a little fellow 
at the time, his step-mother had never been able 
to gain any good influence over him. In conse- 
quence he was an awkward, overgrown lad, old 
etiough to be a man, but distressingly boyish and 
trifling in most things, the torment of mother 
and sisters, and the despair of his father, though 
having some flne traits of character lying dor- 
mant. 

^AVhat are you doing?” he asked of nobody 
in particular. 

His question received no immediate answer. 
They were all so busy, and so accustomed to his 
aimless questioning, they hardly heard it. But 
he kept repeating it with a vehement insistence 
until Estelle at length answered, rather 
irritably, ^^Can’t you see we are cooking sup- 
per ?” 

^AVhat are you doing it for ?” 

^Tor the best reason in the world — ‘because 
there is nobody else to do it,” said Agnes. 

^^Sarah has gone out,” Estelle added, more 
graciously. 

^^Has she gone for good ?” 
hope not.” 

^AVell, what are you cooking so much supper 
for?” 


The Ivy Vine. 


26 


^^Perhaps, because you are to be one of the 
eaters/’ snapped Estelle, losing patience again. 

^^Estelle, tell me/’ he said, unrebulfed, ^ 4 s 
there going to be company for supper ?” 

“Julian, I should think you would know with- 
out asking!” 

“Who is it ?” smacking his lips with a relish 
of anticipated extras. 

“Some of papa’s visitors,” again parried 
Agnes. 

“Are we going to have fried chicken ?” (That 
was his special weakness.) 

“1^0, these are fried oysters, don’t you see?” 
rejoined Estelle, lifting a chicken leg to turn it, 
and holding it toward him as he bent inquisi- 
tively over the stove. 

“Get out of my way, Julian !” spoke his 
mother, who had been unobservingly busy over 
the biscuit. “What are you doing in here, any- 
way ? Boys are always in the way when there 
is work to be done.” 

“Who is to be here ?” questioned the boy, re- 
gard lessly. 

“Some of the new students your father has 
invited. Didn’t you hear me tell you to stand 
back?” 

Julian always had the knack of getting under 
people’s feet when they were busiest, of breaking 


2G 


The Ivy Vine. 


into the most concentrated thought, or of inter- 
mitting the most interesting conversation with 
his useless, self-centered torment of questio:^f . 

^^How many are there, Estelle f ^ he went on, 
getting between Estelle and her mother, as they 
were preparing to empty the contents of two 
bowls into one. 

Julian, why do you make yourself so dis- 
agreeable exclaimed Mrs. Graham, provoked 
beyond tolerance. ^^Go upstairs at once and 
study your lessons !” But Julian did not go. 
Too many of his mother’s commands were 
merely exclamations for him to feel them neces- - 
sarily imperative. He went over to where Agues 
was emptying some coddled apples into a dish, • 
and unintentionally jostling her arm, the hot 
juice splashed up on her hand. Down came the 
saucepan with a crash, and J ulian, jumping back 
out of the way, stumbled over a chair and sat 
plump down on Estelle’s best hat. This ex- 
hausted the last grain of patience. ^Mulian!” 
exclaimed Mrs. Graham, in no very gentle tones, 

told you some time ago to go to your lessons. 
If you had obeyed me we would have been saved 
this trouble. A^ou need not ask for apples at the 
table ; you see for yourself there is hardly 
enough left to go round,” dipping them into 
another dish as she spoke. 


The Ivy Vine, 


27 


At the same instant Estelle picked up her 
hat with an exclamation of dismay, for her 
father’s salary was not so large nor so carefully 
husbanded that it was not sometimes a problem 
where a single new hat for a season was to come 
from for his wife and three girls. 

Julian was fairly driven out of sight now with 
reproaches for the mischief he had done, and he 
went sullenly upstairs. It did seem as if he 
were always ^^putting his foot in it,” as he ex- 
pressed it. 

The supper was duly enjoyed, and Professor 
Graham was too proud of his wife and daughters 
not to betray the fact that they were entirely 
responsible for it. Julian did not appear when 
the bell rang. 

^^He must have gone to sleep over his lessons,” 
Mrs. Graham laughed. But she did not send 
for him, for, to tell the truth, it was rather a 
relief to have the awkward, ugly duckling of the 
family out of the way when strangers were 
about, even though the visitors were only two 
new students. However, she would have been 
slow to confess the feeling, if she had been con- 
scious of it. At any rate, everybody was at his 
best, and the evening passed off pleasantly. 


CHAPTER III. 


The Geo wing of Leaves and Vine. 

“ What is too small for man to consider is often large 
enough for God to use.” 



S Mrs. Graham laid no further embargo 


upon them, Estelle and Agnes went out 
the next morning to sell their pin-cushions, and 
did not find it so formidable an undertaking 
as they had imagined. As they were first in the 
market with these convenient little commodities, 
the girls were all able to report not only every 
one sold that had been made, but orders for 


more. 


^^CanT we begin to do something with the 
money right away 

^^Yes, I think so,” Miss Morrison smiled 
brightly at Estelle. ^Glave you something in 
mind that needs to be done?” She saw in a 
moment it had only been a fit of impatient en- 
ergy on Estelle’s part, and, without waiting for 
her abashed negative, hastened to say, ^^Cer- 
tainly we ought, each one, to be looking out for 
some one who needs our help. I wonder if 
Selina Lindsay — ” 


The Ivy Vine. 


29 


! by the way’’ — it was Effie who spoke 
this time — saw Selina on their little porch 
as I passed there just now, and she asked if I 
wouldn’t please hand her a knitting-needle which 
had dropped over the steps. She said she had 
broken her crutch, and could not get about so 
well with only one. It did not take long for the 
Ivy Vine, which had grown out of a desire to 
help others, to decide on devoting the first earn- 
ings to the mending of Selina’s crutch. Effie 
Blair and Estelle Graham were appointed a com- 
mittee to attend to it, with instructions, if they 
found it could not be neatly and securely re- 
paired, to contract for a new one, and if there 
was not money enough in the treasury, it should 
be soon forthcoming. 

Effie, rather inclined to weigh and measure 
and discuss the pros and cons, was prompt and 
energetic when action had been determined 
upon, and now proposed they should go to the 
carpenter’s on the way home, and see what he 
could probably do before arousing Selina’s 
hopes. The carpenter said he had no doubt it 
could be satisfactorily mended for about thirty 
cents. And that if they would bring it to him 
he would attend to it at once and take it to Selina 
on his way home that evening. The only regret 
the girls felt, as they confessed to each other 


30 


The Ivy Vine. 


i 


when all had been done, was that their commis- 
sion had been accomplished with so little trouble 
and at so little expense. 

^^Why, our fund, small as it is,^’ said Effie, 
^^has hardly been touched.’’ 

^‘Oh ! I expect we can find plenty of others 
to help.” 

don’t know about that. Father says there 
are very few really poor people in Bridgeton — 
fewer than any place he ever knew.” 

The next Saturday morning five pairs of 
young eyes were watching anxiously the mist- 
enfolded town and country. They knew full 
well the meaning of the clouds hovering low 
on the mountain sides, but hoped this was only 
mist, and would vanish when the sun mounted 
higher in his path. All day long their hopes 
went up and down with that snow-white line on 
the blue front of Double Mountain. One mo- 
ment they were sure it was moving up a little, 
and that the clouds were breaking overhead ; the 
next, it would most evidently be dropping down, 
and down their hopes would topple. Shortly 
before the time for the meeting of their circle 
it began to pour in such torrents as only a little 
mountain towm could tell of. 

Estelle and Agnes Graham went off to their 
room, and, after giving full vent to their vexa- 


The Ivy Vine. 


31 


tion to each other, sought to forget it in a game 
of backgammon. Olive Baylor, matter-of-fact 
little housewife that she was, did not stop long 
at the window, but got out her basket of socks 
and did some darning, for she had her father 
and three brothers to mend for, and she knew 
it would not lessen her chances of getting there 
to get her accustomed tasks all done beforehand. 
Effie, after dilly-dallying all day, as she. said, 
AVhen the matter was finally decided, got out 
some Christmas work and ^^made the best of it.’’ 
Berta still lingered at the window. ^Tot that 
she was more rebellious than her sister, but there 
was a kind of fascination in watching the tre- 
mendous power of the wind and rain. The big 
locust tree in the yard was reeling and groaning, 
and flinging its slender limbs about as if im- 
ploring for mercy, until she really had a heart- 
ache for it. But the reckless blast only caught 
the helpless branches and wrenched them from 
their parent stem, and flung them over the house- 
top in cruel disdain and mad merriment, then 
whistled and howled as it went on its way in 
search of new prey. With each gust of wind 
the rain poured in torrents, under which not a 
rose bush could hold up its head. Even the 
sturdy lilac, with its multitude of leafless twigs 
keeping close together for protection, were bend- 
ing and swaying under the heavy down-pour. 


32 


The Ivy Vine. 


^^Oli ! mother, mother ! just come and look 
Berta suddenly cries. 

Mrs. Blair, \Vho had that moment entered the 
door of the room, quickened her stately steps, 
realizing that something unusual had called 
forth the cry, and Effie dropped her work and 
joined them at the window. Across the street, 
opposite them, two little girls were struggling 
helplessly with the storm. At the instant the 
wind seized the umbrella, turned it wrongside 
out, and whirled it up in the air, despite the 
frantic efforts of the child to hold on to it. At the 
same time the smaller girl was literally beaten 
do^vn to the ground by the pitiless sheets of rain. 
A sympathetic ^^Oh !” burst from each of the 
lookers-on, but before the sound had left her lips 
Effie had her cloak and hood and was on her 
way to their succor. Mrs. Blair and Berta fol- 
lowed her to the door, and held it open for the 
return. How the wind did blow, and how the 
rain did pour, as if the very windows of heaven 
had again been opened ! It was almost more 
than Effie could do to keep her feet in touch 
with the earth. She half expected every moment 
to see herself flying up into the air like the little 
girl’s umbrella. The children were by this time 
huddled together in a little heap flat on the pave- 
ment. It was all they could do, and, as Effie 


The Ivy Vine. 


33 


found on coining nearer, the least one of the two 
was sobbing in terror, while the elder was com- 
forting and shielding her to the best of her small 
ability. Effie had some difficulty in persuading 
them to venture even the little journey across 
the street. But when they saw the open door, 
with its warm, safe shelter within, they yielded 
to Effie’s urgent ^^Come, let’s go before another 
storm-gTist catches us !” and suffered themselves 
to be gently hustled over and into the house, look- 
ing for all the world like two little picked birds. 
They were drenched to the skin. 

While Mrs. Blair went to the packing trunks 
to find among the stored-away things something 
they could put on, Berta and Effie gave the little 
ones a bath and a good rubbing to ensure their 
not taking cold, entertaining them cheerily 
throughout the process. When at last they were 
wrapped in blankets toasting in front of a glow- 
ing fire, they gave the whole history of their 
adventure and of themselves. Their mother — 
a widow — ^had come to Bridgeton to take board- 
ers, under the advice of friends. were not 

very rich,” the oldest girl — Agatha — said. 
^^And mother didn’t know any other way she 
could get us educated,” chimed in the less one, 
^^and she just had to have some butter, so she 
sent us for it.” Berta and Effie began to laugh 
3 


34 


The Ivy Vine. 


at the incongruous connection ; but a blank look 
of distress came over the faces of the little 
strangers. What had become of the butter they 
had been sent for, and were carrying home so 
carefully ? 

Annie began to cry again, sobbing out, ^^Ihn 
afraid mamma’s boarders will all leave her !” 
And Agatha’s lips immediately pursed up in 
sympathy. However, with a hrave effort at self- 
control, Agatha said, soothingly, don’t expect 
they will, when they know we could not help it. 
And, any way, maybe mamma only told us that 
in fun to make us hurry home before the 
storm.” 

^AVe were hurrying as hard as we could, too, 
only the man kept us waiting so long at the 
store.” 

Berta and Effie could not but be intensely 
amused at the children’s exaggerated distress 
over the lost butter; yet they were sorry for 
them, too, and tried not to laugh in a way that 
would embarrass them. 

When the children had thoroughly recovered 
from their fright and chill, Berta and Effie 
dressed them in some of their own outgrown gar- 
ments, choosing the most fantastic combinations 
for their further amusement, while their own 
were being thoroughly dried by the kitchen fire. 


The Ivy Vine. 


35 


so as to be ready to be put on as soon as the 
storm should abate. 

^^Mamnia says/^ little Annie chirped, looking 
at her own quaint figTire in the mirror, ^^that out- 
grown clothing is the only thing we have plenty 
of at our house, because we catch up with each 
other so fast she cannot even pass them on 
down.’’ 

They tried a short game of ^^neighbors come 
to see,” but found the little strangers were too 
restless to enjoy it much. Presently Agatha 
went to the window and looked out at the still 
fast-pouring rain, with a sober sigh. ^T’m 
afraid if it keeps up this way much longer, 
mamma will be like Saul’s father,” she said, 
quaintly; ^^she will cease caring for the butter 
and be troubled about us.” 

Agatha !” exclaimed Annie, starting up 
and joining her sister at the window, ^Vhat did 
become of the umbrella ?” 

Agatha’s lips quivered a little as she answered, 
^Tt blew clear over the fence — but — it broke all 
to pieces before it got away ; if it hadn’t I would 
have tried to keep on holding it, though it did 
hurt my wrist so badly. Mamma told me to be 
sure to take good care of it, too, because it was 
the only one she had.” 

After Agatha’s first remark Mrs. Blair had 


36 


The Ivy Vine. 


gone quietly out of tlie room. Returning now, 
she drew Agatha and Annie to her, and said 
kindly, ^‘You need not distress yourselves about 
your mother. I have sent word you were in safe 
quarters, and would come home as soon as the 
storm would permit.’^ 

^^Oh ! did you Agatha’s expressive face 
hrigiitened as with a hurst of sunshine, and 
Annie crept into Mrs. Blair’s motherly arms and 
whispered in her ear, think Bridgeton must 
be a very kind place.” 

By the time the rain was over their clothes 
were dry and nicely ironed, and it was only a 
frolic for Berta and Effie to take them home. 

A warm friendship between the two families 
was the result of this little incident. 

Agatha is very anxious to join the Ivy 
Vine,” Berta and Effie told the Grahams at the 
next meeting. ^^She is a geod deal younger than 
the rest of us, hut she is such a dear little thing ; 
and then, if she joins, I expect Virgie will 
also — she is about our age.” 

^AVho are they ?” asked Estelle Graham. 

“They are the new people, don’t you know, 
who rented the old Lyle place this fall to take 
boarders — student boarders ?” 

“Oh ! yes, I remember now,” spoke up Agnes. 
“They were at church last Sunday — such a 
string of them — and all girls.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


37 


^^Mamma says/’ added Estelle, is a pretty 
good sclieme to get her pretty daughters married 
off, and maybe herself likewise.” 

Berta was looking a thunder-cloud of right- 
eous indignation at this insinuation concerning 
her new friends, but said nothing, 

Effie remarked, with quiet earnestness, ^^The 
girls are very pretty, and, for that matter, I be- 
lieve Mrs. Wallace is the prettiest of any. But 
if you knew them I am sure you would never 
associate them with any unladylike scheme.” 

^Wou certainly would not,” emphasized Berta, 
and Effie added, ^‘Mother says they are such per- 
fect gentlewomen.” Then the two sisters went 
on to tell of their acquaintance with them the 
day of the storm, and of the quaint sayings and 
doings of the children. 

^^Is it the Wallaces of whom you are speak- 
ing?” interjected Miss Morrison, joining them. 
^^They are lovely people. Let us get the girls 
to join the Ivy Vine, by all means. Any one 
of them will be an acquisition, if like her 
mother.” ISTaturally, they were all eager to 
carry the invitation now, and, unable to settle 
upon a committee of two, they went in a body 
to secure as many of the Wallaces as they could 
induce to join them. 


CHAPTEE IV. 


The Ivy Vine Eeaching Down Deeper. 


No man liveth to himself.” 



T the next meeting of the band, Virgie 


and Agatha Wallace were present as new 
members. Lncille, the older sister, was afraid 
she could not always be spared from home, bnt 
would like to come sometimes as a visitor, and 
to help all she could. 

Virgie Wallace was not so pretty as Lucille 
or little Agatha, but had a fine face, sincere and 
strong, and her manners were unusually attrac- 
tive. 

‘^Our Ivy Vine is growing,’’ Miss Morrison 
said in tones of zestful congratulation, ^^and I 
am so glad of it. I would like to see it climb 
up, and up, and up — oh ! I hardly know 
wliere.” 

The first business of the meetings was always 
an animated discussion on the subject of pin- 
cushions. A dictionary would define the word 
as a cushion to hold pins. But no compiler, I 
am sure, would undertake to list the infinite va- 


The Ivy Vine. 


39 


riety of shapes and colors into which this simple 
article had blossomed under the inventive genius 
and tireless zeal of these busy workers. Xever 
since the first stone of Bridgeton was laid had 
the trade in pin-cushions been so flourishing. 

Convince people of the utility of an article, or 
throw it into a form of temptation, and it will 
surely sell. In the Bridgeton market pin-cush- 
ions had become not only a fad which no young 
man could afford to be without, but an absolute 
essential to comfort and convenience, which even 
the sober fathers of the community wondered 
they had not discovered before. It was a sur- 
prise to the girls themselves to And how many 
people in town needed pin-cushions and did not 
have them ; and how quickly a young man could 
wear out one from simply carrying it in his 
pocket. Moreover, as pin-cushions were thus far 
the sole source of revenue to the Ivy Vine, the 
subject was one of the greatest importance. And 
now, given a circle of girls, each with a dainty 
basket or box, filled with bits of silk, ribbon and 
soft woollen goods in as many shades and colors 
as would be represented in a bed of sweet-peas, 
and the necessity laid upon them to meet the 
demand for pin-cushions, and it need hardly 
be said the conversation did not flag, and the 
pros and cons of light shades and dark, of silk 


40 


The Ivy Vine. 


and wool, of round and square, were respectively 
advocated with the zest of connoisseurs. But, 
as ^Variety is the spice of life,’’ it had been de- 
cided at the last meeting, whenever there was no 
other matter of business on hand, to devote a 
portion of the time they were together to hav- 
ing, some one reading aloud while the rest lis- 
tened and sewed. 

^Bf no one else is prepared for this part of 
the entertainment this evening,” their President 
interposed, when the first symptom of a pause 
occurred, have something I believe will inter- 
est you, as it did me.” She held in her hand a 
letter, ^^from a very dear friend,” she explained, 
^Svho went to China as a missionary a few years 
ago.” 

want to tell you,” the letter read, ‘^of a girl- 
wife, or rather widow, who has recently become 
a member of our family. Her own parents, 
needing money, according to the custom of the 
country, sold her to be the wife of a man much 
older than herself, whose mother needed help in 
her work. The girl, however, did not prove 
much of a comfort, for she was utterly averse 
to work, and, as the motlier-in-law expressed it, 
the more she was beaten the more cross and obsti- 
nate and lazy she became. Hor did it prove of 
much avail to complain to her father and 


The Iny Vine. 


41 


mother; they were only too glad to get rid of 
her. The child herself — for she was not more 
than fifteen years old — had a sour, morose ex- 
pression, nothing in or about her to attract, save 
through pity. But when I chanced to call at 
the house one day, and opportunely witnessed 
one of the ^beatings,’ I could not wonder at the 
worst disposition she could show. After the 
death of her parents matters grew still worse, 
as there was then no appeal on either side. 
Finally the husband died also. Since then the 
old mother’s one thought has been to get rid of 
her. I had tried often to talk to the poor young 
thing, and, if possible, influence her for some 
good, but had never been able to extract more 
than a word from her, and that a very sullen 
and spiteful one. The last time I was there the 
mother offered to sell her to me at half the price 
she had given for her, that she might be able 
to buy a wife for her younger son who would 
be more helpful and obedient. Of course, I 
would not for a moment have thought of buying 
her to use as a slave as the woman expected me 
to do, but it did seem a providential opportunity 
to try the remedy of unvarying kindness upon 
her, especially as I noticed her face brighten to 
the faintest shadow of a smile when the proposi- 
tion was made in her presence. Yet, when I 


42 


The Ivy Vine. 


asked her if she would be willing to come and 
live with me, she re]>lied, in a hopeless tone that 
went to irij heart, yes, she was willing ; she did 
not care. So I gave the money to the mother 
and brought the girl home with me, though with 
many misgivings, and with the express stipula- 
tion that if she ever wanted to return to her 
mother-in-law, the only relative she had in the 
world, she was to say so, and be permitted to do 
it. I. had most difficulty in gaining this per- 
mission from the old mother, though I assured 
her I should expect no price for her return. She 
was evidently delighted to get rid of her, and 
had no relish for the prospect of having poor 
Ah-lin back on her hands. Well, the unhappy 
child has been with us now for three weeks, and 
has received nothing but the tenderest kindness 
from any member of our household ; and though 
she has not as yet given back a single grateful, 
or even civil, word, and is no end of trial, as you 
may imagine, yet I am so deeply sorry for her 
I cannot regret what I have done, and trust to 
the grace of God to bring some good out of it for 
her. Dear friend, help me pray for her.’’ 

Some of the other eyes were glistening, dia- 
mond-like, as well as Miss Edmonia’s, when she 
folded the letter and put it back into the 
envelope. 


The Ivy Vine. 


43 


^^Cannot we pray for her, too It was little 
Agatha Wallace who spoke, but her words were 
echoed in each heart of the little circle, and they 
forthwith entered into a sacred compact, silent 
save for the eloquent language of eye to eye 
and heart to heart. 

As they were breaking up. Miss Edmonia 
said, holding two or three hands in hers, and 
including them all in her loving glance, ^AVe 
will not forget little Ah-lin. I am sure it will 
do us good to have some person of special inter- 
est outside of ourselves and our own.’’ 

The girls were rather sober under tlie weight 
of this new responsibility they had taken upon 
their young hearts. Even Olive Baylor, despite 
the ready jollity she always kept on hand for 
the sake of ^The boys,” walked thoughtfully be- 
tween Estelle and Agnes Graham. 

^Tt’s real scary, isn’t it?” she presently said, 
with a shrug, ^To believe we have actually some- 
thing to do with the salvation of a soul, even if it 
is the soul of a little heathen.” 

‘T think it is lovely!” exclaimed Agnes, en- 
thusiastically, yet touched with somewhat of the 
same awe. 

^^Only, I don’t see why we ought not to fe^l 
just as much concerned about the souls all 
around us,” said Estelle. ^Tn fact, I am sure we 


44 


The Ivy Vine. 


ought — but who She broke off abrupTly with 

an embarrassed laugh. Julian, for instance, I 
suppose 

^^Yes, Julian,’’ said Olive, seriously, ^^and my 
brothers Paul and Elmer.” 

Julian would only make himself as agree- 
able at home as your brothers do,” stipulated 
Agnes, in a self-accusing tone, ^Sve might bring 
ourselves to feel as much interest in his becom- 
ing a Christian as” (laughing) ^^in the heathen ; 
but he is so cross and overbearing, and so silly 
sometimes, even mamma does not know what to 
do with him.” 

^^There is a lot of good in Julian, for all his 
crankiness,” said Olive, earnestly, and he will 
be all right some day.” 

^‘Julian’s crossness may be partly our fault, 
for we certainly are cross to him sometimes,” 
confessed Estelle, candidly; ^^and boys cannot 
help being rough, can they, Olive ?” 

^^My brothers are, I know; but, then, there 
are so many of them they take it out on each 
other, and so do not bother me. I think, after 
all, what is the matter with Julian is he is just 
one by himself.” 

^^It may be,” mused Estelle, in a tone of com- 
punction. 

^A"es,” echoed Agnes, ^Vou are one to three. 


The Ivy Vine. 


45 


and we are five girls to one boy. It must be 
dreadfully hard on Julian.’’ 

^^And we haven’t tried to be good to him, 
while yonr brothers are so lovely to you. Be- 
sides, mamma isn’t even his very own mother, 
and she says it always was hard for her to love 
him,” added Estelle, with increasing contrition. 

When Estelle and Agnes Graham parted from 
Olive, at the corner of College street, they made 
her promise faithfully she would come next 
time, and every time until the roads became 
actually impassable. How little they knew what 
would happen before another Saturday after- 
noon ! And, in blissful ignorance, they went 
their several ways — Olive, with her heart full 
of a great pity for the sisters, whose love wasn’t 
blind enough to miss the little peccadillos which 
blurred the character of their only brother, even 
if he was but a half-brother, and Estelle and 
Agues, talking half-defensively, half self-accus- 
ingly, of Julian, wholly admiringly and lovingly 
of Olive, with gentle, penitent inner resolves to 
be in future more like her in their treatment of 
their brother. 

^^Have you seen anything of Julian ? He has 
not been home since dinner,” was their mother’s 
rather anxious greeting as they came in. told 
him, too, that I would want him to do some 


46 


The Ivy Vine. 


errands for me this afternoon, as you would 
both he away.’’ Then, turning her worry on 
them, for want of other outlet, do not see, 
for the life of me, why you all should have delib- 
erately chosen for your meetings the time of all 
the week when I would most surely need you.” 

The girls, conscious it was Julian, more than 
themselves, with whom she was vexed, and with 
hearts softened toAvard the truant boy, made no 
answer for themselves, only, Avhile they waited 
Avith hats on to knoAV Avhat errands they could 
still do for her in his place, Estelle said, depre- 
catingly, heard him talking to Paul Bay lor 
about driving home AAuth him and Olive; hut 
I did not knoAv you Avanted him, and he must 
surely have forgotten.” 

^Tt is easy to forget — ^accidentally on pur- 
pose,’ to use his own slang — Avhat one does not 
intend to remember,” Mrs. Graham said, Avith a 
peculiarly bitter expression on her face. 

The afternoon waned and darkness fell ; still 
no ncAvs of Julian. 

^^Doesn’t he often stay all night Avith the Bay- 
lor hoys ?” Mr. Graham suggested, comfortingly. 

It was quite true he spent a great deal of time 
out there; true, also, that he frequently went 
Avithout informing any one of his intentions. 
Mrs. Graham had reminded herself of these 


The Ivy Vine. 


47 


facts over and again, but the recollection of 
Julian’s face, as she last saw it, neutralized any 
comfort she might otherwise have found in it. 
He had tormented her to give him a dime to buy 
pencils with, and when she told him to wait for 
his father, as she did not have it to spare, he 
dogged her busy steps with his pouting com- 
l>laints and arguments until she scarcely knew 
whether she had sweetened the Sunday cake with 
sugar or salt. 

Had her tones been harsher than usual, she 
wondered, that he had looked so cowed and crest- 
fallen under them, so almost desperate, as he 
stalked out of the room at her bidding? She 
had a conscience about her husband’s only boyj 
if it did so seldom disturb her, and if he had 
been dilferently constituted, she might have been 
the best of step-mothers to him, she often told 
herself. Her conscience was inexplicably alive 
to-day. Touched by something in the expression 
of his face, she had determined, after he had 
done her errands, in the afternoon to give him 
the dime any how, hoping this would undo any 
unpleasant impression of the morning. To that 
intent she had called after him as he left the 
dinner table, to be on hand without fail, but 
either he did not or pretended not to hear. He 
went out the front door with a bang, and that 


48 


The Ivy Vine. 


was the last she had seen of him. It was seldom, 
indeed, she was troubled with unreasoning ai> 
prehensions, and such scenes were of too fre- 
quent occurrence to cause annoyance, and yet 
she could not rid herself of it. Estelle and 
Agnes were also watching for him with un- 
wonted anxiety, eager, perhaps, for an oppor- 
tunity to put their good resolutions into prac- 
tice. But, at a rather late bedtime, they were 
forced to content themselves with the most likely 
solution, that he was simply spending the night 
at Dr. BayloEs. 


CHAPTEE V. 


Beoken Tendeils. 

W HILE the anxious thoughts of his home 
people were thus reaching out after 
Julian in the dark, he was sitting on a stool at 
Olive Baylor’s feet, winding and unwinding a 
ball of bright worsted, glancing up from time 
to time, with a boy’s unstinted, uncritical admi- 
ration to the girl’s face above him. It was not 
a beautiful face by any means. Boys, while still 
boys, are less easily enthralled by simple beauty 
than later; the child’s intuitive perception of 
genuine worth lingers. 

Olive’s was a face where a strong, brave, 
thoughtful, loving heart shone through. She 
lacked four years of being as old as Julian, ac- 
cording to the birth-register, yet few would have 
believed it. She was fully conscious, as well as 
he, that in maturity of judgment and personal 
acceptance of the responsibilities of life, she was 
the older of the two. Being the only sister, she 
had kept herself completely on a ^Sve boys” plat- 
form with her brothers; might have verged 
upon the ^^tom-boy” if they had not been so gal- 
lantly protective. Consequently, she was admi- 
4 


50 The Ivy Vine. 

rably fitted to advise, and scold if need be, an- 
other boy. 

Julian was with her brothers so much she had 
virtually adopted him as ^^one of the boys.’’ She 
knew he was often misunderstood to his disad- 
vantage at home, and she had great sympathy 
for him. 

^^]^o, I don’t believe they care anything for 
me,” he Avas saying iioav. ^^Mamma thinks 
everything ought to be for the girls ; has no use 
for a boy, except to wait on them and do all the 
disagreeable jobs that Avill tire their backs or 
spoil their hands.” 

^^Hush, Julian ! How can you talk so ? You 
know you do not believe it. People have dif- 
ferent ways of showing their love, but mothers 
always love their boys.” 

^^Own mothers, you mean,” he interrupted, 
significantly. Olive had forgotten, but she went 
on, unheeding. ^^And I think Estelle is lovely 
to you.” 

^^Estelle is good to me sometimes, and then 
again she is just like the rest. If I could only 
have a sister like you — ” 

Olive laughed gayly. You may be one of my 
brothers. I couldn’t have too many, if they were 
all like those I have noAV. But, then” — ^her 
smile greAv grave — am sure it Avould be better 


The Ivy Vine. 51 

if von appreciated tlie sisters and mother God 
has given youd’ 

‘G would if they treated me right/’ he spoke 
np, implacably. 

^^Are you quite sure the fault is not sometimes 
your own 

II is eyes fell before her kindly scrutiny. 
“Pm as good to them as they are to me. I can’t 
take everything from them,” he persisted, pug- 
naciously. 

Olive felt that arguing was a failure, and she 
knew from experience there was no good in 
allowing him to dwell morbidly on his imagi- 
nary troubles, or, as he supposed, his causes 
of complaint. 

^‘Do you know what I would expect if I were 
your sister ?” she said, smiling saucily. 

His smile was a little rueful, as he could not 
hut remember how like a little queen her 
brothers treated her in sharp contrast to his own 
home manners. ^^But, then,” he consoled him- 
self^ ^^it would be easy if it were Olive,” so he 
only said briefly, ^^What ?” 

^AVell, when I came down in the morning, I 
would expect you to jump to your feet, no matter 
how engaged, and with a pleasant greeting say, 
^Here, sister, take my seat by the Are, or near 
the window, as the season might be.” 


52 


The Ivy Vine. 


Julian flushed and fidgeted, remembering 
how often he did not even trouble himself to 
respond to a greeting when he received one. 

^^At the table/^ Olive went on, gayly, ^^you 
would anticipate all my wants, and never dare 
to leave the house without asking if there were 
any errands you could do for me down-town.’’ 

Again Julian remembered his short-comings, 
and the fight he made over the least little thing 
he was asked to do. 

^^If I were going out in the evening,” pursued 
the merry lass, relentlessly, ^Aou would always 
be sure I was provided with an escort before 
making any plans for yourself. In short, you 
would have to l>e as manly and true-knightly and 
jierfectly unselfish as are the dear brothers I 
already have, else I would soon turn you ofi 
again. Do you think that would be very unrea- 
sonable ? Of course you do,” reading his du- 
bious face; ^^but, then, you have not looked at 
it from the other side. Even though you had 
but one sister, you would still expect your clothes 
to be kept in good order ; never a string nor a 
button missing, though a thousand stitches 
needed to be taken to fill out the measure of her 
own wardrobe. Whenever you came home you 
would expect to be met with a cheerful face and 
plenty of jolly chat about things that interested 


The Ivy Vine. 


63 


you, however trying domestic affairs might have 
been during the day, whatever disappointments 
and vexations might have come into her own 
small life, and to have her lay down an exciting 
novel or a fascinating piece of fancy work at 
the most interesting juncture to patch or darn 
a rent you had carelessly gotten without an im- 
patient w’ord or sigh of regret/’ The picture 
was in some things truer than she knew. Julian 
winced under it, and could not even laugh ; but 
her own Avinsome smile disarmed any suspicion 
that she was intentionally hurting him, as she 
added, playfully, ^^That’s Avhat my own brothers 
expect of me, and I don’t dare to offer them 
less — such tyrants are you lords of creation ! Do 
you still imagine you Avould like to be one of my 
brothers ?” 

She flirted her handkerchief into his sober 
face to provoke a smile as she got up in response 
to the bell, and said, ^^Come, let us go in to 
supper.” 

OliA^e Avas quite a dignified little house-mis- 
tress at the head of her own table. Her mother 
had been dead for several years, and she had 
tried to take her place in every Avay as far as 
such a slip of a girl could. After supper came 
games and lively chat, in which Dr. Baylor took 
an equal share Avith the young people. At ten 


54 


The Ivy Vine. 


o’clock tlie circle broke, after the merriest kind 
of an evening. The Baylor hoys, none of them 
smoked, hnt Julian had already acquired the 
enslaving habit. He promised, however, to he 
content with one cigar this time, and to follow 
them in a very short while. 

He stood for a moment, when left alone, look- 
ing around on the tasteful belongings of the 
family sitting-room. There was plenty to tell 
of refinement, intelligence, cultivation, which he 
could appreciate only in a dim, vague way, hut 
still more marked to him was a certain home- 
atmosphere, which he, whether from fault of his 
own or of others, had never gotten into in his 
own home. To Julian it all breathed of Olive. 
He and Olive had always been the j oiliest of 
comrades. For some reason the thought of her 
this evening overwhelmed him with the con- 
sciousness of his own ^^meanness” — ^his rough- 
ness with his sisters — his disobedience to father 
and mother. AVith startling self-conviction came 
the remembrance of his mother’s charge not to 
stay away that afternoon, as she particularly 
wanted him, and here it was bedtime, and he 
only just thinking of it. He tucked back the 
dainty muslin curtains, and propping his feet 
into the window, looked out on the moon-flooded 
lawn, and held a serious council with himself. 


The Ivy Vine. 


If he should change his conduct at home — be the 
line gentleman Olive wanted him to be — he 
would doubtless have to run the gauntlet of sur- 
prise, ridicule, and long lack of faith in the per- 
manence of the improvement from those of his 
own home, for, indeed, such conduct would be 
absurdly unnatural in him. It seemed utterly 
impossible to make up his mind to face the con- 
sequences of this change. I^ever in his life be- 
fore had he looked at himself as others saw him. 
Presently he did something he had not done for 
many a year — he knelt down and asked God to 
help him to be a better boy, and, with a great 
longing for the mother-love of his babyhood, 
which he barely could remember, he hoped that 
if saints could pray in heaven, his mother would 
pray for him now. 

The half-consumed cigar had dropped un- 
noticed from his hand. He got up from his 
knees, looked at his watch, and, finding how long 
his revery had lasted, chunked the fire doAvn low 
in the grate, and stood a moment more looking 
down into the glowing coals, then — turned out 
the lamp, and — ^‘sniff ! sniff !” — there was the 
smell of something burning. A coal must have 
rolled out on the carpet while he manipulated 
the fire, and he hurriedly began to hunt for it, 
contrite and distressed beyond measure at the 


56 


The Ivy Vine. 


damage which might ensue. Down on his hands 
and knees he felt around and smelled around 
in every direction where a coal could have rolled, 
the smell of smoke growing stronger, but its 
source utterly eluding his anxious search. 

A sudden light flashed into the darkness from 
behind him. He sprang to his feet, to see the 
whole of the pretty muslin curtain in a blaze 
from floor to ceiling. He quickly caught it in 
his arms and dragged it down, but the angry 
flames had already leaped across to another 
window. It was barely a moment before the 
room was enveloped in flame and smoke. He 
dared not open the door, lest it spread through 
the house. He tried to cry out, but his voice 
was smothered. He must give the alarm in some 
way. Breaking through a window, he jumped 
to the ground, and began to yell lustily. Soon 
lights and night-robed figures were moving 
about. Dr. Baylor and the boys came out, one 
by one — dazed, half-awake. ^^Where is Olive 
Somebody echoed his own thought. As the ques- 
tion passed from mouth to mouth around the 
group, Julian drew his coat up over his mouth 
and nose, and shutting his eyes tight, rushed 
into the midst of smoke and flame. 

Hobody knew the house any better than he 
did, and nobody else knew so well the direction 


The Ivy Vine. 


57 


of the fire. It had not reached Olivers room. 
Thank God for that ! Involuntarily he paused 
to knock, but too Avell he knew there was no time 
to wait for her drowsy questionings if she should 
be still asleep. When she opened her eyes he 
was standing by her bed, hushing her screams 
of terror by saying simply, ^^Olive, the house is 
on fire. I have come to take you out and, 
without more ado, he wrapped her in a blanket 
and picked her up in his arms. At the door of 
her room she looked back at the portrait over the 
mantel and murmured, mamma ! mamma 
Then, with her accustomed self-control, reso- 
lutely closed her lips and said no more. 

The back stairway was burning underneath, 
but proved still equal to the double- weight. At 
the foot, however, great tongues of flame darted 
across the narrow pass way, causing Olive to 
cling shudderingly to her bearer. For that one 
instant the heart of a man thrilled within him, 
that for once in his life he could be a comfort 
and help. Drawing the blanket closely over her 
head, he dashed through, and they soon breathed 
in safety the chill night air, in which the flames 
were holding such high carnival, and Julian 
gave up his burden to the father and brothers 
wFo had been trying to reach her by the other 
stairway. Then Olive, turning and taking in 


58 


The Ivy Vine. 


for the first time the whole terrible conflagra- 
tion, clung to her father, and, with a heart- 
piercing wail of waning consciousness, ^^Oh ! my 
beautiful home ! my beautiful home sank in 
a heap on the ground. She was immediately 
carried to the nearest house, the miller’s cottage, 
and one convulsion followed another in such 
quick succession they hardly knew if she were 
ever conscious. She lay at death’s door for 
weeks, and at the end of that time the physician, 
who had been summoned from the city, could 
only promise, ^^She may live, but if she does, 
will probably be an invalid for life.” 

And where was Julian ! 


CHAPTEK VI. 


The Vine Wounded in its Leaf. 

E FFIE, what is that?’’ Berta sprang up 
in bed, as the loud, rapid clanging of a 
harsh bell broke the stillness of the ^Svee sma’ 
hours.” Effie had awakened at the same instant, 
and was listening. 

^^Can it be anybody is dead ?” said Berta. 
^^No, for that is not tolling, or it would be 
slow and solemn.” 

^‘Perhaps they are tolling this way at first, to 
be sure of waking people up.” 

don’t believe they ever toll the bell in the 
night. There would be no need to wake every- 
body up just to let them know somebody was 
dead. I am sure, if that were it, they would 
wait till morning.” 

^^Besides, I don’t think it can be a church-bell. 
Xone of the church bells have that awfully sharp 
sound.” 

^^It couldn’t be the court-house bell, either — ” 
At that moment another bell, which they recog- 
nized as belonging to the court-house, added its 
clangor to the first, and the wild, distracting 


60 


The Ivy Vine. 


noise was truly alarming. A moment more, and 
two shivering, white-clad figures stood in the 
hall calling softly, ^Tather, what does that hell- 
ringing mean 

He opened the door at once, for he was nearly 
dressed, and their mother was at the window, 
from whence could be seen a red glare of light 
all over the northeastern horizon. 

^^It is fire ; but we cannot tell where.’’ 

^^Can it be the college ?” asked Berta, in awe. 

The town boasted a fire-engine, and about 
once a year the volunteer firemen were paraded 
through the streets, and carried through all the 
manoeuvres of hook and ladder, hose and engine, 
of an imaginary fire; but never, within the 
memory of Berta and Effie, had there been a real 
fire. 

^^E’o,” their father replied, looking at it anxi- 
ously, as he slipped on his coat, am sure it is 
not the college; it is farther off than that. It 
may be the bridge — or the mill — or — Dr. Bay- 
lor’s house. 

The girls clasped their hands in involuntary 
terror. The mention of the Baylors brought it 
almost closer home than if it had been the col- 
lege. Their father went out quickly. He was 
going down the street to see if he could learn 
particulars, while the mother and girls huddled 


The Ivy Vine. 


61 


together under shawls and blankets to await in 
anxious suspense his return. The long minutes 
of uncertainty brought at last, not their father, 
but a messenger, to say it was Dr. Baylor’s 
house, and Dr. Blair had gone out to see what 
he could do. There was nothing left for the rest 
of them hut to w^ait for the morning and further 
news. 

Berta and Effie lay down beside their mother, 
not to sleep, hut to watch the weird red light in 
the sky, as it would die down to a faint, roseate 
hue, as of the breaking day, tlien flare up again 
with an angry red glow, wEich made them shud- 
der. As it finally disappeared entirely, they did 
fall asleep, to dream troubled dreams about poor 
Olive, the Doctor and the hoys. 

IVlien morning came, and their father, they 
almost dreaded to question his trouhled face. 
He did not wait, however, but told them at once 
the house had burned to the ground, the family 
had escaped with their lives, but Olive was des- 
perately ill, and Julian Graham, who was there, 
could not he found. He had brought Olive out, 
and, they feared, had gone hack into the building 
for some purpose, and been burned to death. 
Ho trace of him could thus far be discovered. 

^HIow horrible !” exclaimed the girls, simul- 
taneously, and Berta buried her face in her 


62 


The Ivy Vine. 


hands. The whole town was one universal note 
of distress, for Dr. Baylor and his family were 
greatly beloved. 

As soon as possible Mrs. Blair hiirried over 
to the Grahams. Although Julian was not Mrs. 
Graham’s own son, she thought, she has had him 
ever since he was a little fellow, and must feel 
this terrible disaster almost as if he were. 

^^They say Julian was very disagreeable at 
home; perhaps they will not grieve so much — 
except for the horror of the thing,” said Berta, 
with a shrug and a shudder. 

^^Oh ! yes they will,” exclaimed Effie. ^^They 
will only remember the good he was and did, 
now — poor fellow ! Isn’t it terrible, to think 
of anybody being burned alive ! What could he 
have gone back for, if all the people were 
out ?” 

don’t know, unless Olive asked him to get 
something she wanted. He perfectly worshipped 
her, and if she had asked him to go right into 
the fire, I believe he would have done it for her.” 

^Gf that were so, would it not be dreadful to 
remember now, and feel that she was the cause 
of his death ?” Effie murmured, thoughtfully. 
Maybe it is a blessed thing she is unconscious 
until they find some other solution of his death. 
Oh ! it is. all so dreadful.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


63 


If dreadful to these dear girls and friends, 
who only felt it from the outside, what must it 
have been to those most deeply .concerned ! 

Dr. Baylor and the boys had hardly had time 
to realize their loss as yet, every moment and 
thought being wholly taken up with Olive. 

The miller moved out and gave them full pos- 
session of the little three-roomed cottage, as it 
was imjwssible to tell when the sick girl could 
be moved. Mrs. McBride, her mother’s sister, 
stayed with her as much as possible, but Hugh, 
oldest of the three boys, could not be persuaded 
to leave her either to eat or to sleep. At night, 
when she was sufficiently quiet for her father to 
seek some rest, Hugh would lie down beside her 
and hold her hand, so he could know if she 
moved or breathed other than as she ought. For 
days he did not undress, except when it was 
necessary to change his clothing; not until the 
convulsions became less frequent and showed 
some signs of succumbing to the remedies used. 
Even then she lay in a stupor, not noticing any- 
body or anything. 

There had been no further revealments con- 
cerning Julian. It was impossible longer to 
flatter themselves with vain hopes of his escape. 
If he had been able to get out of the building a 
second time alive, he would of necessity have 


64 


The Ivy Vine. 


been too badly burned to creep to any great dis- 
tance, and must have been discovered ere this. 
Moreover, the cremation had been complete, for 
not a symptom of a bone had been found. 

Mrs. Graham candidly confessed, in that 
haughty, self-poised manner of hers, she could 
have borne the loss if it were not for the regret 
that her last words to him had been impatient 
ones. J anet was recalled from school for a week, 
which was a great comfort to her mother. She 
would fain have kept her at home altogether if 
the girl herself had been willing. For it was 
the continual squabbling between Janet and 
Julian wFich had made it advisable to send her 
off to a boarding-school at a rather early age. 
She was still the core of her mother’s heart, and 
it was a sore trial to have her absent. 

Judging from his quiet, undemonstrative ex- 
terior, one might have thought Professor Gra- 
ham grieved but lightly over the loss of his son. 
His grave, studious face showed little change. 
If his tall form stooped a trifle more, few would 
have noticed. Yet he did feel it beyond what 
any one dreamed. A man craves for earth’s 
life no higher joy or pride than to know his 
name will be worthily perpetuated in his son. 
This joy and pride his only son, Julian, had 
never given him. On the contrary, he had been 


The Ivy Vine. 


65 


a growing mortification as the years went on. 
No teacher had ever been able to stir his am- 
bition, or by any motive to induce him to study, 
and the constant complaints of his step-mother 
and sisters made him an unmitigated trial in 
the home. Nevertheless, the father, with ex- 
haustless patience, had hoped for the time when 
the good seed would outgrow the weeds. He was 
not conscious himself how strong this hope had 
been. Now hope was dead — his interest in life 
crushed, as grain in the maw of the mill. 
Though his greater grief could find no words, 
he was none the less tenderly pitiful for that 
of his wife and daughters, which could, nor less 
responsive to the affectionate caresses of Estelle 
and Agnes, who gave more than Avas their wont, 
from an intangible feeling of his need. 

As for Estelle and Agnes, they were half- 
bewildered by the sudden shock and horror, and, 
as with the step-mother, their grief was sharp- 
ened by remorse. With sad misgivings they 
remembered their lack of gentleness and pati- 
ence in their daily intercourse. expect 

Olive Avas right,’’ Agnes sighed, in the privacy 
of their OAvn chamber, ^^all that Avas the matter 
Avith Julian Avas his being one by himself.” 

knoAv it,” echoed Estelle, Avith a fresh out- 
burst of subdued Aveeping, ^^and we did not try 
5 


66 


The Ivy Vine. 


to help him, or sympathize with him in the least ; 
but, just because there were most of us girls, and 
we had the strongest side, we took advantage 
of him.” 

They sat on the side of the bed and cried 
softly, Estelle presently murmuring, ^^ISTo won- 
der God took him away from us ; we did. not de- 
serve to have a brother.’’ 

This cloud of self-accusation was still hang- 
ing heavily over them when Miss Edmonia 
called. 

Each one of her girls was peculiarly dear to 
her in a special way. And certainly she would 
have judged no two of them less needing severe 
chastisement than shy, unselfish Estelle or 
bright, winsome Agnes. It broke her heart to 
see such heavy shadow on their dear faces. At 
first she could only draw a head down on each 
shoulder and weep with them ; but tender words 
of sympathy soon loosened their tongues and 
drew them out to tell her freely all that was 
oppressing their young hearts and consciences,— 
the vagueness of the certainty, if it might be so 
expressed. ^TIow can we ever feel perfectly 
sure he is dead,” they said, ^Vhen we could not 
see his lifeless form, nor follow it to the grave.” 
The funeral services at the church had seemed 
empty and meaningless, and then Estelle mur- 


The Ivy Vine. 


67 


mured, gulping down a big sob, were not 
as kind to him as we ought to have been 

^^Indeed, we were not/^ repeated Agnes, and 
both covered their faces and wept again. 

The involuntary expression of this bitter root 
to their sorrow gave their teacher a new insight 
into it. I^othing aggravates the distress of los- 
ing a friend like remorse over some real or fan- 
cied failure in duty toward them. 

^^Ah !’’ she said, patting their hands, which 
lay in her lap, ^hf we could always keep before 
us the day when we shall look back and remem- 
ber and regret every unkind word and ill- 
natured deed there surely would be fewer of 
them. But, unfortunately, we do not stop to 
think until the sudden blankness of death comes 
between us. Then it is too late. Still there is 
no profit in reproaching ourselves. It only adds 
to our sorrow. There is something else I am 
gladder to say than that it is no profit to remem- 
ber. It is that I am quite sure God does not 
want us to remember, only to act differently in 
the future. He knows how weak we are in the 
grasp of passion or some unexpected temptation, 
and I do believe he is less hard on us — the dear 
Heavenly Father — than we are on ourselves', if 
only we are truly trying to do better, to grow 
more like him all the time. 


CEAPTEE VII. 


Trouble in the Atmosphere. 

OP several days little Agatha had felt there 



was trouble in the atmosphere from some 
cause, else Lucille’s usually placid face would 
not be wearing those worry-wrinkles, and mother 
would not be smiling and talking so extra 
cheerily, as if she were trying to drive them 


away. 


Agatha was not'feeling all this in words, per- 
haps she did not know she was feeling it at all, 
only she kept watching the two faces and won- 
dering. 3ilrs. Wallace thought it a pity to 
burden little girls with cares they could not help, 
and so thus far had only taken Lucille into her 
confidence. Sometimes she almost regretted 
that, although Lucille was a mature, clear- 
headed girl, and it is such a help to have some- 
body else’s mind on whatever is worrying one’s 
self. Virgie had of late begun to look on a little 
enviously at the private conferences between 
mother and daughter. She had suddenly shot 
up into a tall girl on a level with Lucille, feeling 
quite grown. She thought she might help as 


The Ivy Vine. 


69 


well as lier sister, who was only two- years her 
senior. She, too, had noticed something wrong, 
and easily surmised what it was. 

They had calculated on getting at least five 
or six student hoarders, whereas they had only 
gotten three ; one of these gave Latin and 
French lessons to herself and Lucille for his 
board, and another taught the English branches 
to all of them. This left only one to keep up the 
table, and it was not sufficient in town, where 
they had everything to buy. 

^^But if the worst comes,’’ Mrs. Wallace had 
said, with her gentle, sweet smile, which always 
stood for faith and hope to her children, ^^we 
can go back to the country, and be as well off as 
we were before.” 

It so happened that little Agatha heard this 
remark, and while she herself had no special 
dread of going hack to the country, she knew 
her mother and Lucille and Virgie thought it 
would be much better if they could remain in 
town. So she determined to ask Mr. Forsyth, 
who was her special friend, if there was no 
chance of more students coming who would 
need to get board. 

lie did not give her much encouragement, for 
it was too late in the session to justify expecta- 
tions. Still he promised his little friend to be 


70 


The Ivy Vine. 


on a sharp lookout, and to ^^snap up for her the 
first strange man that appeared on the campus.” 

The next morning came the startling news 
of the burning of Dr. Baylor’s house, with its 
consequent afflictions. Little Agatha and Virgie 
forgot tlieir curiosity, Lucille her worry, and 
Mrs. Wallace all her anxieties for her own little 
flock in her sympathy for the motherless girl, 
and the family which had lost its only boy in 
sucli a harrowing way. She was naturally shy 
and shrinking. She could not forget she was 
so recently a stranger in the community. Never- 
theless her whole heart was going out to them, 
and she was not the woman to listen to foolish 
deniurrings when a kindness was to be done. As 
soon as possible after breakfast she put on bon- 
net and wrap, and went to Professor Gra- 
ham’s. 

The visit was somewhat a suprise to Mrs. 
Gralnmij as she had, through procrastination or 
indifference, neglected to call on the strangers. 
Ilowbeit, she could not but appreciate the kind- 
ness which would waive all ceremony in this 
manner. Slie also' felt the gentle sympathy 
which led IMrs. AVallace to say, with evident 
effort, ^Aly own two little boys died by accident 
within a very short time of each other.” She 
paused a moment, then added, was very 


The Ivy Vine. 


71 


rebellious at first, but often since I have seen 
young men who made me thankful my boys were 
safe with Jesus, and had not lived to become like 
them.’’ 

Mrs. Graham stiffened a little, perceiving the 
very natural mistake into which her visitor had 
fallen, and said explanatorily, ^Mulian was not 
my own child, you know; he was the child of 
Professor Graham’s first wife. Still I have had 
him ever since he was a little fellow in kilts, 
and” — with a touch of self-convincing pride — 
do not believe he ever knew any difference. 
He was a very difficult child to manage, and 
gave me a great deal of trouble, even to the last, 
but I flatter myself his own mother could have 
done no better by him than I did, or been more 
patient with his faults. And yet, such is the 
perversity of human nature, at this very moment 
I am reproaching myself unmercifully because, 
under great provocation, I spoke harshly to him 
that last day. Of course, if it had been my own 
child I would not have thought of it again, but 
stepmothers are so apt to be criticised, you know, 
and I always tried to be so careful.” She 
Avatched for a moment silently the quiet, uncom- 
prehending face before her. ^^You at least haA^e 
no self-reproach mingled Avith your grief.” 

The tAvo looked at each other; the one Avith 


72 


The Ivy Vine. 


lier fresh grief, including its self-reproach, all 
toned to a measure of perfect decorum ; the 
other with her ever-fresh sorroAV quivering 
through face and form and mother-heart. Mrs. 
Wallace forgot the puzzle this other nature had 
been to her a moment before. self- 

reproach V’ she murmured ; then with doAvncast, 
reminiscent face, she pictured her two beautiful 
boys of tAVO and four years as she had left them 
AAuth a nurse, in AAdiom she had most implicit 
confidence, to seek her oAvn pleasure Avith her 
husband at an eA^ening’s sociable. They Avere 
both in perfect health, had hardly knoAvn a day’s 
sickness in their lives ; yet on her return, at a 
rather late hour, she found them stiff and cold 
in death. The reckless girl had given them an 
opiate to get them early to sleep and out of her 
AA^ay, and did not knoAv she had done any more 
until the mother’s quick eye and touch had 
detected it — but all too late. 

Mrs. Wallace had come Avith a heart full of 
sympathy to do AA^hat she could to comfort under 
a more recent bereavement; both were begin- 
ning unexpectedly to realize that the older Avas 
by far the deeper grief of the tAvo. N’otAvith- 
standing, this little glimpse into each other’s 
liearts did them both good. IMrs. Graham, being 
naturally of a suspicious temperament, had feAV 


The Ivy Vine. 


73 


intimates, and although they had been six or 
eight years connected with the college, she had 
never yet quite fallen into the free, natural life 
of the little town. Mrs. Wallace was as yet 
equally an outsider, but she had in this one act 
placed her perfect genuineness and kindness 
beyond a question, and Mrs. Graham did not 
fail to respond to it, with the best that was in 
her. 

This visit being accomplished, Mrs. Wallace 
began to turn yearningly toward the Baylors 
and the motherless, sick girl. She Avas at a loss 
how to let her sympathy reach them, as she had 
no way of getting to the country, for she could 
not walk as the young people did, and had no 
means of driving. Mere formal notes of sym- 
pathy or inquiry seemed so empty. She gladly 
gave her consent when, within a Aveek or ten 
days, one of the young men offered to drive 
Lucille out. 

Lucille Avas groAving like her mother. The 
early sharing of responsibility had given her a 
grave SAveetness of face, Avhich softened her 
sunniest smile to make it — like her mother’s — 
ahvays soothing and hopeful, n^A^er offendingly 
bright under any circumstances. 

When she and her companion reached the 
cottage, it so happened that Dr. Baylor Avas util- 


74 


The Ivy Vine. 


iziiig a quiet interval to get a little rest, and 
Elmer, the youngest of the boys, as the only 
hospitality he had to offer, invited them right 
into the room where Olive lay sick, though he 
did it in some awkwardness and embarrassment, 
as if he knew it was not just the proper thing to 
do. However, Lucille had no hesitation in 
entering alone, but, with her usual thoughtful- 
ness, advised her companion to remain outside 
with Elmer. 

Olive still lay unconscious, and, as Lucille 
thought, without attendant. Taking a seat be- 
side the bed she touched the delicate, white hand 
of the sick girl with her cool palm, stilling the 
tremor of it with a gentle, firm pressure. The 
sufferer instantly turned her head toward Lu- 
cille, and gave a little moan as of relief, though 
she did not open her eyes. In a moment Hugh 
sprang up out of some shadow of the darkened 
room, and approached the bed on the other side. 
Coming in out of the sunlight, Lucille had not 
seen him at all, and he did not notice her now 
until he had felt the pulse and hroAv of his 
sister, and watched her anxiously for several 
minutes. Lucille had withdrawn her own hand 
at his approach, and stepped back a little with 
an apologetic instinct of intrusion. But they 
both noticed that at the removal of the pressure 


Tice Ivy Vine. 


75 


of her hand the tremor in the fingers of the 
])atient not only became more perceptible, but 
extended up the arm, and began to twitch the 
face in such a distressing manner Lucille in- 
voluntarily caught the hand in her own again, 
with the same gentle firmness of touch, and 
stooping pressed the cool velvet of her cheek 
on Olive’s brow. It seemed to soothe her into a 
sweet quiet, and again came the little moan of 
comfort. Hugh, with his hand on her pulse still, 
looked up quickly with a smile of infinite relief, 
and for the first time their eyes met. 

^‘^tiss Wallace, I believe ; is it not ? It is 
very good of you to be here.” He spoke in a 
low, full voice. 

am so glad to come, if I can be of any 
service,” she murmured, her eyes wandering 
back anxiously to the patient’s face. 

^^I^one of us have ever been seriously sick 
before since mother died, and we are missing 
her so dreadfully now.” 

A deep pity shone in Juicille’s sweet eyes. ^^I 
will gladly stay all day, if ^Ir. Rutherford can 
come back for me” — and she made a move to- 
ward the door to ask him. 

‘‘There will be no need,” said Hugh eagerly; 
“we will see that you get home if you can spare 
the time. Aunt Em has stayed with us as much 


76 The Ivy Vine, 

as she could, but she was so worn out with her 
double duties she was obliged to go home for 
rest to-day.’’ 

‘^Mamma says I am a born nurse,” Lucille 
smiled in response to a congratulatory exclama- 
tion of Hugh’s over some little slight-of-hand 
adjustment of the pillows, which evidently gave 
great comfort. 

^^Let me do the lifting, please !” Hugh quickly 
interposed; can do that,” and, with the 

strength of a man and the tenderness of a 
woman, he eased the tired body into a more 
restful position under Lucille’s suggestions. 

Hr. Baylor was delighted to find she had 
missed the convulsion. From that time they 
became less frequent, and her father was able to 
grasp some hope of her recovery. 

^^Send for me whenever the help or comfort 
I can bring will pay for the trouble of getting 
me here,” Lucille told Hr. Baylor at leaving; 
^hnother or I can always come.” 

Bealizing that the offer was made in all good 
faith, the ^^mother or I” was frequently called 
upon during the weeks of terrible illness which 
followed, and the touch of Lucille’s cool palm or 
the tender mothering of Mrs. Wallace rarely 
failed to soothe the sick girl’s nervous restless- 
ness. 


The Ivy Vine. 


77 


^[eanwhile ]\[r. Forsythe had not forgotten 
his promise to Agatha. 

One day when the trouble lines of personal 
anxiety had begun to reappear on the faces of 
mother and eldest daughter, Virgie and Agatha 
were confiding to each other their conviction, 
that taking boarders was not turning out very 
well for the family, and that it would be a relief 
all round if they could go back to the country, 
and be content to get their education the best 
way they could. An exclamation from little 
Annie, who was looking out the window, inter- 
rupted these rather gloomy communings. 
do believe! — ’’ ^^I’m just sure!’’ exclaimed 

Agatha, promptly joining her, ^^that Air. For- 
sythe is bringing us some more boarders !” and 
flew to the door to verify her hopes. 

She was right about it. Air. Forsythe had 
brought two young men who had been boarding 
with Dr. Baylor previous to the fire. One of 
the brothers Avas not in very robust health, and 
his mother coveted for him the early hours of a 
country home, and the oA^ersight of a physician. 

Since the fire the stronger brother had made 
every effort to find satisfactory accommodations 
elscAvhere in the country Avithout success, and 
the proverbially small stock of patience credited 
to young men being exhausted, he readily ac- 


78 


The Ivy Vine. 


cepted the suggestion of Mr. Forsythe to try 
the next best thing, and put him under Mrs. 
Wallace’s motherly wing. There was no pal- 
pable difference anyway, he had added, in the 
healthfulness of town and country in a moun- 
tainous district like this. 

Tt’s an ill wind blaws naebody good,’ ” 
quoted Virgie, voicing the all-round uplift from 
recent depression. 

But Mrs. Wallace looked up quickly, with a 
deprecating, daughter!” 

Her sweet, sensitive soul could not bear to 
think of profiting by such heavy sorrows to 
others. Yet she knew that in some way it was 
God’s good hand to all, though they might not 
see it now. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Lovit^^g Ministry of the Ivy Leaves. 

“Is thy cruse of comfort wasting? rise and share it 
with another.” — Airs. Charles. 



T had been two weeks since the disaster 


which had thrilled the whole community 
with sorrow and sympathy. The first Saturday, 
in the unsubsided excitement, the Ivy Vine and 
its meeting had been entirely forgotten. As the 
hour again approached at Avhich they were ac- 
customed to assemble, the question came up in 
each girbs heart, Shall we go — will there be a 
meeting Though their object was a sober and 
thoroughly laudable one, the hour spent together 
was always one of such genuine enjoyment they 
wondered if it would be wanting in respect and 
consideration for those in sorrow for them to be 
^^seeking their own pleasure !’ ’ Nevertheless, 
they were all there except Olive, even Estelle 
and Agnes Graham. If they had asked their 
mother about going:, she would probably have 
demurred on account of appearances. But they 
thought it could do no harm to call and ask 
Aliss Morrison what they ought to do. For 


80 


The Ivy Vine. 


answer, she had taken them by the hand, and 
led them in with her. 

Miss Edmonia’s own heart was very tender, 
and while they were in this melted mood, she 
took occasion to speak words of sweet counsel, 
which she knew they would remember far better 
for receiving them into soft and genial soil. 
They talked a great deal about Olive. 

was there yesterday,^’ Miss Edmonia said, 
^^and her father thinks there has been a turn 
for the better, and has some hope now of her 
life being spared, though he still fears long 
years of sutfering and invalidism may be the 
alternative.’’ 

‘^And she was so bright and jolly, doesn’t it 
seem hard !” said Berta regretfully. 

^^xVnd how the boys will miss her !” said Effie. 

^^She used to say she had to be jolly because 
the boys would not have it otherwise,” said 
Agnes, tears springing to her eyes and to Es- 
telle’s at the mutual remembranoe of other 
words Olive had spoken in that same last con- 
versation they had had with her on the way 
from the Ivy Vine meeting. 

^‘The devotion of her brothers is beautiful,” 
Miss Edmonia added softly. ^^And now, dear 
girls, as soon as she is well enough to see us, let 
us each one try in some little way, each week. 


The Ivy Vine. 


81 


to give her pleasure, and, however long she may 
be confined to her bed or couch, never let her 
forget she is one of us.’’ 

For a few minutes the needles went in and 
out silently, while many a quiet tear was wiped 
hastily away, lest it soil the pretty fancy work 
which brought their income. It grieved Miss 
Morrison sorely to see her merry little circle so 
sad-faced, yet she knew God had sent the sorrow 
into their midst, and no doubt had some wise 
purpose in it. 

‘‘Do you remember poor Ah-lin, the unhappy 
young Chinese widow ?” she presently asked. 
The girls looked up from their busy fingers with 
quick interest. 

“I noticed, this morning, in the Missionary 
Magazine, an account of her death, and I 
thought you would like me to read it to you.” 

Little Agatha, at this announcement, clasped 
her hands in a startled way, as if not at all pre- 
pared for this disappointment to her faith and 
prayers, and while Miss Morrison read, the child 
sat gazing at her for a time, with the same un- 
comprehending expression. 

The brief account simply said, “Ah-lin had 
lived a most unhappy life. With the usual con- 
comitants of too early marriage, too much 
mother-in-law, etc., was combined a naturally 
6 


82 


The Ivy Vine. 


disagreeable temper. After she became a mem- 
ber of one of the missionary homes, and learned 
she had nothing to expect but kindness, what- 
ever she might do or say, or be, she realized 
the difference between this and anything she 
had ever known before, and gradually came to 
understand that it was the religion of Christ 
which made the difference. Even before her 
sickness she tried, in her dumb way, to let them 
know the change taking place in her feelings. 
When laid on a bed of illness, her one thought 
was a longing to get well, that she might go back 
to her mother-in-law, and prove to her the power 
of this new religion by what it had wrought in 
her old, obstreperous charge. When she found 
this could not be, she gave up with the faith of a 
little child, and died blessing God that he had 
sent his Son from heaven to die for her, and 
sent these dear friends across the big ocean to 
tell her of it.’’ 

When Miss Morrison finished reading, little 
Agatha exclaimed, ^^There’s one, isn’t there ?” 
and all turning to her, saw her face beaming 
in an ecstasy of reverent faith — joy, in the fact 
that one souk had been saved in answer to their 
prayers. They all felt it — the sweet, grave 
uplift of spirit which lingered on their hearts 
through the pause ensuing. 


The Ivy Vine. 


83 


It was not strange they were not in a talka- 
tive linnior this afternoon. It required an effort 
for Miss Morrison herself yet, ‘‘I must help my 
younger friends/’ she thought, ^hhat they may 
not miss the good of it.” A line occurred to her, 

“ The busy mind no moping knows,” 

and one small matter suggested itself at once. 

^‘Has Lena McBride ever been invited to join 
ns she asked. 

She caught a disapproving frown on some of 
the faces before her, but went on unheeding. 
‘B^ena gave me a hint the other day she would 
like to join if the dues were not too heavy — you 
know her mother’s income is rather small — I 
told her I did not think our dues would need to 
scare her; then let the matter drop, because I 
felt the right of invitation was yours. It may 
he some of you have already — ” 

^‘She is such a rowdy !” Berta Blair de- 
murred, candidly, in response to her leader’s 
inquiring glance. 

^A"es, I know, hut she is thoroughly good- 
liearted, and the boisterousness is most likely 
due entirely to her mother’s lack of opportunity 
to give her the attention and training which 
each of you have had.” 

She purposely left the subject there, well 
knowing her girls would not need a second 


84 


The Ivti Vine. 


reminder to do the kind thing, and promptly 
changed the subject, that the implied rebuke 
might not have a chance to rankle. 

met little Selina Lindsay a while ago, and 
she smiled at me as brightly as if she had a most 
grateful feeling toward every member of our 
band. I wonder if it is because she is so fond 
of knitting that she is always doing — ’’ 

think she is obliged to,’’ interrupted Es- 
telle, shyly. 

^^Yes, you know, Estelle, she told us the day 
we were there how proud she was to be able to 
lielp a little on the family expenses !” 

^^Do you know what kind of knitting she 
does ?” questioned Miss Morrison. am 

ashamed to say, although I have so often 
watched her with interest as I passed the door 
last summer, and admired her industry, I did 
not once think to notice what she was doing. 
Yow that I am thinking we might get some 
work for her, I wish we knew just what she 
can do !” 

^The day we went to see about her crutch,” 
said Estelle, ^^she was knitting some beautiful 
trimming out of thread.” 

^Yf that be so, I am sure we could get orders 
for her, for that kind of trimming is not only 
pretty, but durable, and washes beautifully.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


85 


When each of the girls had had something 
to say about what she conld do, Miss Morrison 
added, am so glad yon have started out on 
this line, for there is no helping more really 
helpful than to aid those who are trying to help 
themselves. Let ns keep onr eyes open, and 
see if there are not others whom we can help in 
the same way.’’ 

It was still a sober set, dispersing quietly to 
their homes, but it was the soberness of earn- 
estness and renewed zeal. There is nothing so 
quickly relieves heart-depression from whatever 
cause as something to do for somebody else. 

Selina Lindsay, to whom their thoughts all 
turned first, was a little girl of twelve years, 
Avho had been a cripple since her fourth year. 
She had been dreadfully burned by an exploding 
lamp placed near her little bed. The flesh on 
one limb had been almost consumed. Only 
after a long agony of suffering and the most 
patient and wise medical treatment, had it been 
brought to heal over, and then there were left 
some angry, painful sores on foot and ankle. 
These resisted every remedy, and Dr. Baylor 
finally admitted he could do nothing more. 
Thus the poor little thing had hobbled back into 
a life full of almost constant pain. The mother, 
never very robust, had a severe tax on her 


86 


The Ivy Vine, 


strength, nursing a young baby and a heavy, 
helpless child at the same time, with another 
little girl O'f six to keep out of mischief, and all 
her OAvn work to do. But when they found there 
was no hope of recovery, Mr. Lindsay bought a 
pair of little crutches for Selina, and on these 
she soon learned to get about quite independ- 
ently, and even to relieve her mother of some 
little errands in course of time. Mr. Lindsay 
had always been perfectly devoted to the child, 
primarily because she had his mother’s name. 
Before she got her crutches, he used often to 
carry her in his arms to his blacksmith’s shop, 
where, in a chair brought there for her benefit, 
and placed at a safe distance from the sparks, 
she could be diverted for an hour or two Avatch- 
ing the huge belloAvs, and the gloAving iron and 
the regular motion of the heavy hammers. Al- 
though never entirely free from pain she ahvays 
tried to keep smiling because, as she expressed 
it, ‘‘Papa is so sorry for me if I don’t, and 
mamma has so many other troubles.” 

About four years after her accident her father 
listened to a tra Atelier telling of a famous physi- 
cian of Philadelphia and his Avonderful cures. 
He said nothing of the impression made on him 
to any one until he had saA^ed up money for the 
trip and ten dollars over to pay the doctor. 


The Ivy Vine. 


87 


Then he got a new dress for Selina, and had his 
wife make it, and started off on the long journey 
with his little girl. . 

Dr. Baylor could have given him valuable 
advice and assistance in the matter, but it was 
kept a i:)rofound secret from him lest he should 
feel hurt at their seeking another physician, or 
else persuade them it was no use to go. So, 
with what seemed to him such an ample amount 
of money in his pocket, and a note from his 
pastor mentioning him as a valued member of 
his church, he took passage in the stage-coach, 
which was to carry him and Selina to the nearest 
railroad station. Beaching Philadelphia, where 
he had never been before, he had all the contre- 
temps imaginable in finding the doctor, whose 
street address he did not know, and a boarding 
house adjustable to his means. He was grati- 
fied, however, in finding the great doctor inter- 
ested in the case, and did not demur, even at his 
suggestion to leave the little girl at his infirmary 
for at least a month. 

On his expressing a willingness to do so if 
there was any chance of her recovery, the doctor 
had handed him a folded paper, with a nod 
toward a spry-looking young lady sitting at a 
desk in the corner, and turned to another pa- 
tient. Mr. Lindsay did not understand all this 


88 


The Ivy Vine. 


formality, but supposing it was merely polite 
dismissal, laid his ten dollars, long ago put into 
an envelope and addressed, on the table before 
the young lady, and departed. He was whirling 
along on his homeward way before he bethought 
him to open and read the note handed him by 
the physician. It was a bill for one hundred 
and fifty dollars for board and medical atten- 
tion. The hardworking blacksmith felt as if 
the mountains of his OAvn native county had 
suddenly come down upon him to destroy him. 
But after a short, helpless struggle under the 
horror of debt, for he was a man who had never 
owed a dollar before in his life, he found one 
little hope popping its head up; if the man 
could only cure Selina, it would be hard, but he 
would find some Avay to pay for it. 

At the end of six weeks he was telegraphed 
to come for her, and actually did bring her home 
apparently well. Bor several months no little 
lark in its own blue sky could sing more glad- 
some songs of praise than did Selina as she 
trotted around on two Avell feet. 

But one hapless day she saAv a red spot on the 
poor little foot. 

She shut her eyes tight, and slipped her 
stocking on quickly and tried to forget. Hever 
had she been so prompt to move at her mother’s 


" The Ivv Vine, 


89 


bidding — she wanted to be going all the time. 
For several days she kept it to herself. When 
her mother at length noticed it, and called her 
hnshand to look, the child sobbed out her pent-np 
grief and disappointment in her father’s arms, 
for there was no mistaking the old angry red- 
ness — the dreadful burning sensation that 
seemed to penetrate all her veins. 

Mr. Lindsay wote at once to the Phila- 
delphia doctor, and got Dr. Baylor also to write, 
but he could only reply : he did not believe any- 
thing else could be done with hope of permanent 
cure, and strongly advised amputation as the 
only positive security against blood-poisoning. 
To this Mr. Lindsay could not bring himself to 
agree. Thus the little Selina had gone back to 
her crutches. 

Mr. Lindsay had bravely begun to pay off 
his debt to the Philadelphia surgeon by littles, 
and had ^^made a hole in it,” as he jovially 
remarked to his little daughter not long before. 
But after this bitter disappointment he lost 
heart, took no loYiger interest in his work, nor, 
in fact, in anything save his little lame daugh- 
ter. 

Within a year he suddenly died, leaving only 
a modest home and a small life insurance. 
With this — their only living — Selina and her 


90 


The Ivy Vine. 


mother tried hard to save a little each year on 
the debt, but with five to feed and clothe, two 
of them boys, how was it possible, and the child 
could only hoard her OAvn small earnings from 
an occasional order from the pastor’s wife, or 
such of it as could be spared. 

The Ivy leaves only came gradually to know 
all this, but they never forgot her radiant face, 
Avhen they gave her their several orders for 
trimming and promised her more. 


CHAPTER IX. 


Rp:aciiing Out Its Tendrils to Double 
Mountain. 

“ Slowly by God’s hand unfurled.” — Anon. 



F you want to find people who truly need 


your help, you should go out to Double 
Mountain, and do a little missionating there.’’ 

^HIo you really mean it ?” Effie Blair looked 
up with a half-startled deprecation on her earn- 
est young face to the tall cousin who was spring- 
ing this large proposition on her and her friends. 
She had never contemplated anything so grand 
as missionary work. Was he ridiculing their 
modest aims and accomplishments, or were they 
like children, who, in reckless play, exert their 
efforts to move a harmless handle, and stare with 
wonder as the sudden throbbing of great ma- 
chinery pulses through their being and terrifies 
them with the consciousness of a force evoked 
beyond their control ! She had heard her father 
use this illustration once, and it came back to 
her now with a disturbing |>ersonality. 

For answer to her exclamation, Graeme Gor- 
don went on to tell her of a hunting tramp he 
and his college chum, Rutherford, had lately had 


92 


The Ivy Vine. 


into some of its more unfrequented nooks. ^^In 
following the trail of a deer, we lost our way, 
and then a storm came up, and we were forced 
to seek shelter in the first house we came to. 
House ! it was not to be mentioned within a 
week of the comfortable quarters some of our 
valley Dutch farmers provide for their stock. 
The hospitality of a pallet, shared with several 
rough mountaineers, on the floor of a low, ill- 
ventilated loft, was a mere matter of adventure 
to us boys ; but the next morning we were glad 
to get out into the fresh air pretty early, and, 
while waiting for breakfast, amused ourselves 
with the half-dozen miniature mountaineers gaz- 
ing at us from unkempt forelocks of dingy hair. 
We remembered it was Sunday morning, and 
asked the shavers if they were going to Sabbath- 
school. They dropped their lower jaw and 
grinned patronizingly, as if we were singing 
them a pretty song in a foreign language. It 
flashed over me there might be no Sunday-school 
within convenient reach. I drew the nearest 
one to me, and from all I could get out of him, 
they had never heard of church or Sunday- 
school. Those wretched little pagans have been 
pricking my conscience ever since, and if you 
all — I am sure I can find boys enough to do the 
work if you all — 


The Ivy Vine. 


93 


^^Yoii mean, if we will raise the money you 
will do the work/’ said Effie, in her matter-of- 
fact way. 

^^Yes, exactly.” 

^‘1 do not know what the girls will say to it/’ 
Effie mused, brightening slowly. “I think it 
would be splendid.” 

Effie repeated to Berta what Grjeme had been 
saying to her, but it was after they had gone to 
bed, and they were too sleepy to discuss the sub- 
ject, and, anyway, Berta’s comments were not 
very encouraging, so the whole matter lay in 
abeyance until Saturday. 

But Effie Blair did not forget. The thought 
suggested by her cousin was stored away in a 
careful corner of her memory, and on Saturday 
afternoon, when Miss Morrison gave the cus- 
tomary opportunity for ^^suggestions,” it was 
unfolded to the girls in its crude simplicity, as 
nearly as she could in the words of her cousin, 
Mr. Gordon, without comment of her own, save 
in the emphasis of tone, the kindling of her eye, 
and in her closing words, ^^Don’t you think we 
might do something for them ?” 

She was hardly prepared for the enthusiasm 
with which it was taken up, and Miss Edmonia 
only tried to hold it in check to this extent, that 
they should, in a body, make an excursion to the 


94 


The Ivy Vine. 


Mountain, and feel the way before definitely 
entering into any engagement or planning any 
specific work. The first bright spell of weather 
in May was decided upon as the time, and what- 
ever conveyance or conveyances they could get 
to carry the party in toto as the mode, and the 
girls had plenty to do in the preliminary ar- 
rangements to keep them from growing im- 
patient. 

Excursions to Double Mountain were of quite 
common occurrence in Bridgeton. In fact, it 
Avas considered a part of the curriculum of every 
student in one or other of his four years ; while 
those Avho were fond of hunting could find no 
better than among the ins and outs of Double 
Mountain. Besides this, there were frequent 
parties of strangers among summer tourists. 

The weather did not disappoint them this 
time. It was as fine as if they had asked a spe- 
cial dispensation of Providence. 

A large open wagon had been secured, which 
held their Avhole party, including, in addition to 
the regular members of the Ivy Vine, Lucille 
Wallace, who came as Miss Morrison’s guest, 
and two of the young men whom Graeme Gordon 
had drummed up as active partners in the mis- 
sionary scheme. The other two were on horse- 
back. 


The Ivy Vine. 95 

^^Tliirteen !” Lena exclaimed, counting them 
rather ruefully. 

baker’s dozen — good measure, you know,” 
Miss Morrison spoke up promptly, smiling 
placidly down at their youngest member, little 
Agatha, who sat in her lap. 

am so sorry Olive cannot be here with us,” 
Estelle whispered, in a soft tone of regret, as 
Hugh helped her climb in, then blushed, fearing 
she had been unkind to remind him, as she met 
his great dark eyes, so full of tender yearning 
for the invalid sister at home. 

Lena McBride could keep any party alive 
with her boisterous merriment and jokes. ‘AVe 
might get some ideas in millinery for our sum- 
mer hats while we are out here,” she giggled, 
gleefully. ^^Don’t you think they wear pretty 
bonnets, Agnes ?” 

^‘Of course,” said Agues, a trifle sarcastically. 
^‘Suppose you do have yours made like them ; 
no doubt you could start the fashion.” 

^They certainly have some advantages,” ob- 
served Miss Morrison. ^^They are easy to make 
and splendid to keep olT the sun. Have you seen 
any of the mountain women, Lucille ? Though 
it is hardly time for them to begin to come with 
berries, unless you saw them last fall with nuts. 
They are generally lean and large-featured, with 
big, appealing eyes — ” 


96 


The Ivy Vine. 


^^And calico dresses as lean as themselves — 
Ha ! ha ! ha !” Lena was always chief laugher 
at her own jokes. 

^^Yes, they use no starch in anything, and 
their clinging skirts do not accord very well 
with present styles. But the distinguishing 
feature, as Lena hinted, is the bonnet. It is 
made of some white material or calico, covering 
an unbroken width of card-board, drawn down 
around the face sun-bonnet fashion by the 
crown, as utterly devoid of adornment as their 
own simple lives.’^ 

Miss Morrison’s smile was not all merri- 
ment as her voice fell, and Graeme Gordon 
nodded over his shoulder a confirmatory ^hhat’s 
so.” 

The objective point of all tourists is to reach 
the highest peak of the more easterly spur in 
time to see the sun rise. To do this one must rise 
early, even if lodging a little up from the foot 
of the mountain. With so large a party, they 
could hardly hope to find lodgings in any one 
house. Hence, had taken the precaution to bring 
two tents along in case of need. 

The shadow of the coming night falls early on 
the mountain side; so early that our party 
began to fear they had not given themselves 
sufficient time to make necessary arrangements. 


The Ivy Vine. 


97 


But presently, as they became conscious of the 
up-grade by the slowing of the steady, strong, 
willing horses, and the turning of the road, as 
it were, across the mountain's height, they spied 
a dim light in the near distance, and plucked 
up their courage. 

Miss Morrison and Effie Blair, with Gramme 
Gordon, were detailed a committee to interview 
the host and see what the prospect was for the 
night, leaving the remainder of the party to care 
for wagon and horses and to look out for a camp- 
ing sight, if it should be called for. 

Though the two-roomed cabin was rather 
small, the mountaineers were hospitably in- 
clined, in their dull, undemonstrative way, and 
offered the use of the loft room. From where 
they stood they could see the tiny four-paned 
ventilator and the loAv-latched door at the top 
of the ladder. Gramme’s description of his night’s 
experience came vividly back to Effie. She 
clutched Miss Edmonia’s sleeve with a little in- 
visible nudge, and said aloud, ^^As there are so 
many of us, I expect we had better be content 
with our tents, don’t you think ? It will not be 
cool enough to hurt, and then we can all be 
together.” 

A little barefoot girl sidled up from behind 
them and tried to hide under her mother’s elbow. 

7 


08 


The Ivy Vine. 


The apparition reminded the committee of the 
prime object in coming to- the mountain. 

^^You have no church on the mountain, have 
you, or near enough to attend Miss Morrison 
inquired ; ^^or Sunday-school where the children 
can go 

there ain’t no church near’en Colliers- 
town, and I dunno ’es we’d go ef ther was. 
Mountain folks ain’t got much use for ’em, no 
way. As for the chillun, they ain’t got no shoes 
to wear, and if they had they’d want ’em to walk 
to town.” 

^^If there was a Sunday-school of your own 
close by, Avhere the children could go barefoot 
if they wanted to, you would like that, would 
you not ?” 

^^Dunno. ’Tain’t likely to come, and chil- 
lun’s mighty contrary.” 

But the little girl was shining her eyes up into 
Effie’s in a way that made her feel they had 
really broken ground for their new enterprise. 

When they returned to report, they found a 
place had already been selected for the camp, as 
far up as they could conveniently drive the 
wagon, which they had then drawn to one side, 
on a ledge of rock. The horses had been fed and 
tethered on a small patch of mountain-grass, and 
a fire made. The girls, under Lucille’s leader- 


The Ivy Vine. 


99 


ship, were preparing to make some coffee and 
spread out the lunch, while the young men 
busied themselves with the tents. 

The last rays of the setting sun peeped over 
the tips of the distant mountain tops, and smiled 
benignly upon this unusual merriment among 
the mountain glooms, and the moon showed her 
glad, white face from between white curtains, 
as if eager to participate in it. 

The party were not particularly noisy or bois- 
terous, only wherever there are live hoys and 
girls together there will be plenty of fun and 
frolic, and, somehow, their laughter awoke 
strange echoes among the stem realities of moun- 
tain life. Why is it the mountaineer so rarely 
laughs ? 

The larger tent of the two had been arranged 
to include the wagon body, as safer sleeping 
quarters for as many as it would accommodate, 
and apportioned to the girls. Estelle, who al- 
ways accepted the nuhbings of everything as her 
right, was one of the three who occupied the 
^dower berth,’’ as they merrily dubbed it. Lena 
McBride said she reckoned she had better sleep 
dovm there too, because she kicked so she might 
kick the foot-board out of the wagon, and Lucille 
insisted upon sharing the ^^out-station” with the 
younger girls. The other six packed themselves. 


L.of C. 


100 The Ivy Vine. 

sardine fashion, into the straw of the wagon 
floor. 

And now everything grew qniet and still about 
the camp; the innrmnr of low talk gradually 
sank into silent nnconscionsness or gave place to 
Lena’s nnintelligible sleep-mntterings. ^^obody 
dreamed that Estelle’s heart was quaking within 
its sheltering ribs nntil sleep fled from her eyes. 
She was on the outside, next to the tent-wall, 
and, nnfortnnately, the edge of it, strained be- 
yond its capacity, did not quite reach the ground. 
She could not help peering out into the darkness, 
with a fascination born of her cowardice. She 
lay watching the grewsome shadows sent by the 
moon to sport among the swaying trees and 
bushes, and began to suppose all manner of ter- 
rors and to wonder if there were robbers in the 
woods. She started uncontrollably at the drop- 
ping 'of a twig, and shuddered at the hooting of 
an owl. Presently she really did hear a noise ; 
stealthy footsteps softly crunching the dry leaves 
of the steep mountain side above them, and com- 
ing, apparently, directly toward the tent. She 
turned herself carefully, so as not to disturb 
Miss Lucille, and raising the flap of the tent a 
little higher, saw truly a dark object creeping, 
this way and that between the trees, on all fours. 
In a moment there was another footstep and an- 


The Ivy Vine. 


101 


other. Both of the last being beyond her line of 
vision, she could not tell whether they were of 
the same kind or not. ^^Was the being on all 
fours jnst a pretence, or was it a real animal ? 
And were robbers after it, or after themselves ?” 

Estelle had been laughed at so much for her 
timidity, she feared the ridicule of her compan- 
ions, and still heroically kept herself from 
screaming until she could be quite sure to scream 
was the best thing to do. ^Bt might be only 
stray dogs, or sheep or goats, from some moun- 
tain home,’’ she told herself. But, as the one in 
sight came nearer and nearer, there could be 
no mistake about it — it was a genuine, live black 
bear. The great lumbering thing came slowly 
on, moving sidewise to balance his huge body, 
his nose close to the ground, and giving forth 
low, satisfied growls, as if, being sure of a good 
supper, he did not mind taking his time to reach 
it. The other footsteps were closing in, though 
still not in sight. ^‘Did bears go in packs like 
wolves ?” poor Estelle wondered^ a cold, shudder- 
ing horror wrapping her in its wet blanket. 
Then, in a dull stupor, she found herself calcu- 
lating whether one bear could eat a whole person 
at once, and whether there would be enough 
hears to devour their whole party. For the first 
time she thought of the young men, with their 


102 


The Ivy Vine. 


pistols. Surely, if they knew, they would do 
something for their protection, and she had 
determined to cry out for help, when suddenly 
the animal reared on two feet, and — a man 
stepped between him and the tent. At last her 
spell-bound voice was released ; she could scream 
in earnest now. However, Hugh Baylor, for it 
was he, spoke at once reassuringly, ^^Do not be 
alarmed, Estelle ; wedl manage the old fellow 
Instantly one pistol was fired, then another,' and 
the huge carcass fell dead, shot in head and 
heart, and sliding down the slope, landed almost 
at their feet. The students’ target-shooting had 
done them good service for once. 

Of course, the report of the pistols aroused 
the soundest sleepers, and in explaining to the 
others how the danger was all over now, Estelle 
found her own nerves quieted, and, in the full 
assurance that neither bear nor robber could 
reach them without first facing the loaded pistols 
of their four protectors, she fell asleep so 
soundly she was the last to hear the turkey-call 
with which the boys notified them it was time 
to be up if they expected to reach the mountain 
top for the sunrise. 


CHAPTER X. 


Breaking Ground for Planting. 

“ The same desire which, planted on earth, will pro- 
duce the flowers of a day, sown in heaven, will bear the 
fruits of eternity .” — Joseph Roux. 

S UXRISE on Double .Mountain Avas an old 
story to Miss Morrison ; Berta and Effie 
had also seen it once before. Yet to a genuine 
lover of nature, and nature’s God, there is in 
the glorious view something ever new, defying 
description by tongne or pen. Besides, to the 
rest of the i>arty it was ahsolntely new. Little 
Agatha Wallace, standing in a tip-toe of expecta- 
tion, her golden hair blown back from her fair, 
SAveet face, and the bine eyes fnll of aAve, Avas a 
jhctnre to see, as the great, supreme rnler of the 
day sloAAdy lifted his golden head from his pilloAV 
of clonds, and shed o’er the sleeping Avorld the 
light of his conntenance. Lncille and Yirgie 
groAV qnietly reverent. Agnes, her poetic tem- 
j)er anient stirred to its deepest depths of ecstasy, 
stood Avith head tilted to one side, drinking in 
as mnch as a sonl conld hold. Ev^en Lena Mc- 
Bride forgot her rongh merriment, forgot all 


104 


The Ivy Vine. 


effort to attract attention to herself, and gazed 
with the rest at the grand, inspiring sight. 

Into the solemn, reverent silence fell presently 
the soft chirping of a bird. His mate answered. 
Another, and another, and another, until the 
forests were alive with their morning greetings 
and the busy hum and whirr of the day^s smaller 
lives. 

With a long-drawn breath the souls of our 
party of young people came back from their 
trance of delight to the accustomed earth-born 
consciousness of self, and — wanted breakfast. 

It w^as only a short, steep climb back, and the 
cold biscuit and ham, with Lucille’s hot coffee, 
was a delicious feast for the fasters. 

Breakfast over and the baskets repacked, they 
had the day before them for the Sunday-school 
canvassing. They decided to stroll around in 
parties of three or four, by the different roads 
and foot-paths, to see what they could find to do. 

should like to go back to the house to which 
we went last night,” said Effie, ^^and tell them 
exactly what we want to do, and ask for help and 
advice.” 

^^Admirably thought of, I am sure,” said Miss 
Morrison, warmly. believe you are right 
about it ; the shortest, most direct way of coming 
to the point will be the best.” 


llie Ivy Vine. 


105 


Estelle timidly expressed a desire to go with 
Effie, and was gratified by the eager way in 
which her offer Avas accepted. 

It Avas thought best they should take Mr. For- 
sythe AAdth them, AAEile Hugh and Graeme, as 
being more familiar Avith the mountains, should 
pilot other parties. Mr. Rutherford volunteered 
to be the first ‘‘to stay by the stuff,” if some of 
the ladies AA^ould stay AAuth him, and if some one 
or all the exploring parties Avould promise to be 
back in time to give him a chance. 

“Lena and Agatha and I Avill keep you com- 
pany,” Miss Morrison promptly responded, “and 
Aveffl take onr jaunt after lunch.” 

It Avas thus agreed to reassemble at the camp- 
ing-grounds at noon for lunch, tell their mutual 
experiences AAdiile eating, and, as many as felt 
equal to it, make other short excursions, and be 
ready to start home in time to get over the rough- 
est part of the road before dark. 

There AA^as a shade of disappointment on 
Agatha’s lovely face, and Lena openly spoke her 
discontent. Miss Morrison, seeing this, laugh- 
ingly reminded them, “A good general chooses 
his best soldiers for the reserve corps.” And, 
seeing the cheery acquiescence of the older ones, 
soon shamed aAvay the last A^estige of dissatisfac- 
tion. Moreover, Miss ^lorrison took care not 


106 


The Ivy Vine. 


for a moment to permit Lena and Agatha to feel 
they were less actively engaged than the others. 
They cleared away the debris from the morning 
meal, selected a new spot for the noon lunch, 
then concluded to look around for a spring less 
choked with leaves, or failing in that, to clean 
out the old one for a better supply of water. A 
shallow stream, but clear as crystal, ran across 
the road a short distance below them. Surely 
its source, if they could reach it, would be all 
they could wish. 

^‘Do not go entirely out of sight, or, at least, 
of hearing,’’ Miss Edmonia called after them, 
for she was again allowing herself to be left be- 
hind, after arranging for signals if she should 
need them. 

^oue of them thought it likely this little 
stream would lead them very far; it seemed 
too small. But the windings of that little brook 
were something wonderful. Pulling up slippery 
steeps by trees and bushes, down which the creek- 
let had flashed like a streak of silver; following 
it westward around an unexpected slope ; climb- 
ing great masses of moss-covered rocks, over 
which it had leaped, a mimic Niagara, or 
through which it had trickled in laughing glee ; 
losing it among a great patch of ferns, and find- 
ing it again as it slid down from its mother’s 


The Ivy Vine. 


107 


arms into a green-fringed basin of solid stone ; — 
they never would have guessed they had gotten 
back to the same bunch of Anemones they had 
looked at so longingly at the top of the rock 
which formed the south wall of their encamp- 
ment. They were utterly surprised when, in 
response to Mr. Rutherford’s turkey-call, Miss 
Edmonia’s cheery, ^^All’s well !” came back from 
over the precipice at their elbows. They were 
looking around for some shorter path than the 
one they had followed by which she could join 
them, when they saw coming toward them a 
young nymph of the mountains. She was ap- 
parently a girl of some thirteen or fourteen 
years, slender and lithe, but strong of limb, her 
bare feet clinging to the mountain side as a 
bird’s to its native twig. She carried a wooden 
pail in each hand, and was watching a squirrel, 
jirohably with intent of finding its haunts to 
trap it. Hence the party at the spring saw her 
before she noticed them. When she did she 
shied behind a tree, like the little wild thing she 
was, and took a long, deliberate look at them 
from behind her screen. 

^^Come here !” called Lena, impulsively. ^AVe 
want to ask you something.” 

The girl started forward then, with her chin 
dropped, and her large, dark eyes looking ask- 


108 The Ivy Vine. 

aiice from under a heavy crop of short, curly 
hair. 

Unfortunately, Lena laughed, as she so often 
did, in simple good humor; but it startled the 
young mountain deer, and she looked back, as if 
alx)ut to shy behind another tree, or else vanish 
altogether. • But little Agatha spoke, in her gen- 
tle, coaxing voice, “Do come. ' We want you to 
tell us about the spring, and how to get to it 
by the shortest way from out wagon.” She went 
towards her as she spoke, her face as persuasive 
as her voice. They met half way, and walked 
back to the spring together. 

“Do you live near here ?” Agatha asked. 

“Yes.” 

“How far ?” 

“Just round there,” pointing toward the curve 
of the path. 

“Do you always come here for water ?” Mr. 
Blither ford asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Dor washing purposes, too?” 

“^law waslies her doilies down at the creek 
yonder,” glancing up to be sure that was what 
they meant. 

Tliey coaxed her to sit down on the rocks 
beside them, and managed to draw from her 
many items of interest concerning her family 


The Ivy Vine. 


109 


and the mountain folk in general, and in return 
they told her of the Sunday-school they were 
going to have. Her listless face lighted with 
pleasure as she came to understand it was some- 
thing the children and young j>eople might go to 
once a week and wear their clean, best clothes. 

The only event that ever comes into the life of 
these mountain children is a trip to town. And 
that means, not months, but years often, of an- 
ticipation, and then the long, tiresome walk, 
tramping about town to sell their bucket of ber- 
ries or nuts, often the curious gaze of strangers, 
occasionally the thoughtless smile or open laugh 
of ridicule from some boy or girl, who does not 
dream the mirth is causing pain. 

Molly had an unusually quick mind, and en- 
tered into their plans with what you might call 
eagerness ; told them of several families, neigh- 
bors of theirs, where there were children, and 
agreed to pilot them around. 

Lena McBride had not failed to notice how 
her boisterous manner had startled the timid 
child of nature, and how much more readily 
Agatha or Mr. Kutherford, with their gentle, 
quiet ways, could draw the child out and get her 
to talk, as they wanted her to do, than she could 
with her giggling awkwardness, and, being fully 
as much in earnest as the rest, she made heroic 


110 


The Ivy Vine. 


efforts to subdue all excrescences of uncalled-for 
mirth, and was rewarded by presently finding 
]\Iolly turning to her with the same deference of 
interest as to the others. 

As the girls were doing most of the talking, 
Mr. Kutherford took the opportunity to slip 
away unnoticed, find a short path for himself, 
and bring Miss Morrison to join the party at 
the spring. As they approached, returning, they 
were admiring the becoming softness of Lena’s 
expression and manner, as she gave an occasional 
nod by way of emphasizing what Agatha was 
saying, at the same time she was gently swaying 
her body back and forth. Sh^ did not hear the 
shrill, chattering sound so close to her side, nor 
did AgatJia. They did not see the small, gleam- 
ing eyes, fixed with venomous aim on the side 
of her fair face ; but Molly knew from experi- 
ence what the sound meant, and quickly discov- 
ered the wily head rising into the air from the 
centre of a shining coil, the slender, pointed 
tongue vibrating with almost invisible rapidity. 

Before Lena and Agatha had time to question 
the startled terror in Molly’s face, the alert 
mountain girl had seized them each by a hand, 
and, -with a sudden movement, whisked them 
several yards from the spot. At the same instant 
Mr. Rutherford, who had also spied the rattler. 


The Ivy Vine, 


111 


came down upon its neck with the full force of a 
large club, wielded by his muscular arm, and the 
dangerous reptile dropped its head helpless. 

Mr. Rutherford explained to the astonished 
girls the philosophy of Molly’s manoeuvre, as she 
herself could not have done. A rattlesnake can 
only bite when coiled, and, in order to bite, can 
only dart his head a certain distance propor- 
tioned to his own length. If one can escape 
beyond that distance, the creature is not apt to 
pursue, unless he has been angered in some 
Avay; even then, he must stop and coil again 
before seriously dangerous. 

Hence Molly had done exactly the right thing 
in getting the girls beyond his reach, for Iiq was 
just ready to strike. 

^Hlow fortunate he was up on the rock, and 
did not poison the spring; but we must hasten 
back and guard the horses, as the mate will likely 
be about somewhere.” Molly was able to relieve 
their minds on this score by reporting that her 
father had killed one near here the day before. 
Still, they thought it best to return to camp, as 
it was nearing noon, and the scouting parties 
would soon be coming in. They took Molly with 
them to camp, that she might know where to 
find them after she should have carried home 
her buckets full of the clear, sparkling mountain 


112 


The Ivy Vine. 


nectar, and gotten permission to spend part of 
the afternoon in piloting them to the places of 
which she had told them, in search of pupils for 
their Sunday-school. 

As they all gathered for lunch, each party had 
an entertaining narrative to tell of experience 
and success, and were eager to start out on new 
excursions. But, on careful consideration, they 
found that all the plans which had been suffi- 
ciently matured had already been carried out, 
and no new ones presented themselves as prac- 
ticable for the short half of an afternoon, except 
the one under Molly’s guidance. So the re- 
mainder of the party rested and lolled, gathered 
ferns and flowers, chatting all the while, in 
groups or pairs, over the important events of 
the morning and the bright promise of their en- 
terprise. 

ISTobody had thought of a room until the last 
party returned, radiant with success, and re- 
ported that Molly’s father had offered the use 
of a large, new barn, which he had just finished 
building, the floor of which could easily be 
cleared for their use once a week, and some 
benches made for the accommodation of the 
children and teachers by the next Sunday. 


CHAPTEK XI. 


Uncle Felix. 

O X the night of their return from this 
pioneering trip to Double Mountain some- 
thing wonderful happened in Professor Gra- 
ham’s household. 

The girls had gone to bed early, so weary they 
slept through it all, and knew nothing until 
morning. Clara had been a little ailing, and 
kept her mother and father awake. Just as they 
were falling into their first sound sleep there 
came a knock at the front door. 

Mr. Graham got up at once, and called from 
the window to know what was wanted, but no 
answer came. His wife, who was city-bred, and 
naturally suspicious of such late visitors, espe- 
cially when they would not give any account of 
themselves, besought him not to go down, lest it 
should prove to be a trick of burglars. 

Of course, man-like, Mr. Graham laughed at 
her fears, hooted the idea of burglars in a quiet, 
out-of-the-world place like Bridgeton. Hurry- 
ing into his robe and slippers, he went down and 
opened the door. 


114 


The Ivy Vine. 


Mrs. Graham’s foolish fears had not been 
allayed by her husband’s indifference. She fol- 
lowed him to the head of the stairway, and once 
imagined the scuffle had indeed begun, conse- 
quent on an exclamation from Mr. Graham. 
But the excitement instantly subsided into a 
quiet-toned conversation, which, in some meas- 
ure, did disarm her fears. Her curiosity, how- 
ever, was proportionately aroused. M^hat errand 
could bring any one to them at such an hour ? 
She crept halfway down to the first landing, in 
her effort to make some new discovery, but could 
catch no word from the carefully lowered voices. 
At length the chill of the night air drove her to 
bed, and she dropped to sleep, she knew not for 
how long. She awoke at last, in still greater sur- 
prise, to distinguish the low tones coming up- 
stairs, the mysterious visitor evidently being con- 
ducted to the guest chamber. 

In a new quiver of excitement as to whether 
the guest chamber was in proper trim for its 
occupant, she listened alertly to her husband’s 
movements, supplying his guest with water, 
towels, etc., and was ready with a volley of ques- 
tions when he returned to her. 

Yet something silenced her questions before 
uttered. She could not see the new, glad light 
in his eyes, but there was in his very movements 


The Ivy Vine. 


115 


that which betrayed the joy-quickened pulse and 
a new, happy flow of the blood in his veins, and, 
without waiting to be questioned, he told her all 
she wanted to know. 

It seems an older brother, Felix, whom he had 
not seen nor heard from for twenty-five years, 
had returned. She had been ignorant of his 
very existence. They talked the night through 
of the merry boy, with his never-to-be-forgotten 
pranks, the popular young man, the life of every 
gathering of young people, the universal favorite 
in the town where they lived. When little more 
than grown, he had fallen a victim to an unfor- 
tunate love affair. The girl had actually en- 
gaged lierself to him, whether in mere flirtation, 
who could know; but Felix was in desperate 
earnest, as he was in everything he did, and was 
completely cut up when she told him she was 
going to marry another man. He vowed he 
would not believe it of her, even from her own 
mouth, until he saw the deed done, which he did. 
The night she was married he stood at the door 
and witnessed the ceremony. Immediately 
afterward he had sought his brother, and, with a 
white face, had told him good-bye. 

In reply to his question as to where he was 
going, he merely said, ^^To the ends of the 
earth and slipped out of sight through the out- 


116 The Ivy Vine. 

side crowd. From that night nothing had been 
heard or kno^\Ti of him. 

These intervening years, as it now appeared, 
had been spent in the employ of the British 
government in India. 

By the time this hitherto unknown relative 
met the family in the breakfast-room next morn- 
ing, they knew enough about him to give him an 
affectionate welcome. They were fully prepared 
to rejoice with their father in the return of this 
long lost brother, especially as this joy came to 
him in such opportune compensation for his 
great sorrow in Julian’s death; but they were 
hardly prepared to find their new uncle, even 
within a few days, slipping into his own place 
among them, as if he had always been there. 
Hone were more surprised at this than Mrs. Gra- 
ham. If he had come upon them in any other 
than the way he had she would have felt a cer- 
tain extra reserve and restraint, born of the sim- 
ple fact that he was her husband’s kin. And if 
she had been given time to think, might have 
imagined their house already too full to admit 
of his remaining as more than a passing guest. 

But he had come, an inevitable, in the middle 
of the night, and had staid without a question 
of anything else. However, he had not been 
there long before he succeeded in making him- 


The Ivy Vine, 


117 


self so universally essential she only wondered 
how they had ever gotten along without him. 
^^You know, Mr. Graham never has given me 
the help a wife generally gets in the little things 
of life,^’ she remarked, in explanation of her 
ready dependence on her brother-in-law. 

^^Eecanse papa is always so busy,’’ Estelle was 
quick to interpose, extennatingly. 

Yes, I know that very well,’’ she said ; ^^bnt, 
besides, jnen are differently constituted. Some 
of them do not know how, or if they know how 
to do, they do not know how to systematize their 
time. Is it not so. Brother Felix ?” 

^Gt is, indeed,” he replied ; ‘^^and Joe was ever 
slow to move — slow and sure, yon know — dear 
old fellow !” 

Uncle Felix always had time for everything. 
Baby Clara was never so happy as when seated 
on his knee listening to his wonderfiil songs and 
stories. He was a most willing escort for the 
older girls and their friends, though it took time 
for them to learn to call on him as freely as he 
wanted them to do, for the reason that they had 
been but little accnstomed to expecting such at- 
tention. Their father had not waked up to the 
fact that they had gotten beyond their childhood, 
and Julian, alas ! had considered it such a bore 
to have to go to places with them. Consequently, 


118 


The Ivy Vine. 


they had generally preferred to stay at home, 
unless some outside opportunity offered. On the 
other hand, Uncle Felix found out for himself 
when he was needed, and saved them even the 
asking. Mr. Graham listened with the keenest 
personal interest to the most detailed and oft- 
repeated accounts of the fire and Julian’s sad 
and mysterious fate. He felt the loss was almost 
equally his and his brother’s, as Julian had been 
the only representative of the name, and he 
grieved with the bereft father, even as the 
brother had grieved with him in the bitter long 
ago. 

He won the girls’ hearts completely by his 
staunch encouragement of their Ivy- Vine work, 
especially that for the mountain folk, and suc- 
ceeded in vanquishing the last prejudice of Mrs. 
Graham. Yet, useful as he was thus able to 
make himself in a variety of ways, he was not 
content to remain long an idle inmate of his 
brother’s family. He opened a small book-store 
in the central part of the town, in order, as he 
said, not to be a loafer, and it soon became the 
loafing-place for everybody else. . The students 
made it a place of rendevous ; all kinds of com- 
mittee meetings, church and state, were held 
in his cheery ^^den,” as he called the little room 
back of the store, which he had fitted up as a 
kind of office or sitting-room. 


The Ivy Vine. 


119 


In liis long absence and many adventures in 
foreign lands, and broken connection with liis^ 
home church, he had not lost his religion, and 
promptly discovered a place for himself in the 
church of Bridgeton and its activities, though 
he came into it as a stranger. He gained a won- 
derful influence over the young men who habitu- 
ated his corner, and, long before he was made 
an officer in the church, most of those who joined 
it had gone to him for counsel and encourage- 
ment in the first place. To the past, Mr. Gra- 
ham never alluded, save in the most sacred con- 
fidences with his brother. 

The two brothers were direct antipodes of each 
other. They always had been. As men, now. 
Professor Graham was grave and silent to a 
fault, except in his class-room. ITis broad, intel- 
lectual forehead, was reaching back toward his 
crown ; that, and the premature stoop of his 
shoulders, caused him to look older than he was, 
while his eyes, still sufficiently clear and bright 
to redeem his age, were generally bent down in 
abstracted meditation. His brother Felix, older 
by two years, looked ten years his junior, despite 
the wreck of his early hopes. His rich chestnut- 
brown hair was heavily sprinkled with gray, but 
he still had a full supply of the mixture, and his 
figure, formerly less tall than his brother’s, was 


120 


The Ivy Vine. 


erect and slender, giving him full credit for the 
height he had. With a nature still vigorous, 
earnest, sympathetic and warm-hearted, fond of 
his jokes, too, and always ready to appreciate 
the jokes of others, he was good company for any 
age or sex at any time. In short, he was one of 
those men who are, in the nature of things, ^^in 
everything.’’ meeting for any purpose, busi- 
ness, charity or pleasure, was complete without 
him, and he was ^^Uncle Eelix” to everybody, 
old and young. When there was a picnic or ex- 
cursion on hand, no better or more agreeable 
chaperon could be found, and the young people 
never ceased to regret he had not gotten home in 
time to go with them to Double Mountain. 

almost wish Professor Graham had been 
more like you,” Mrs. Graham said one day. ^‘It 
would have been so much better for the chil- 
dren.” 

^‘Ho, you must not wish that,” he answered, 
gravely, ^^for if he had been any other than just 
what he is, I am afraid I could never have come, 
back to him. And, as it is, the children have us 
both.” 

^^Only, Julian never knew you,” Estelle whis- 
pered at his ear. 

He patted her cheek affectionately, but said 
not a word, only looked the deep regret he felt 
whenever the boy’s name was mentioned. 


OHAPTEE XII. 


Uncle Felix as a “Mischief-Monger.” 

“ Let the hopes of your own life moulder, if it must be ; 
From heart and hands busy for others will grow fresh 


hopes and more enduring.’ 


— Anon, 



NE Saturday afternoon, in the early part 


of the vacation, when Miss Morrison en- 
tered the room, where her girls were gathering, 
she perceived a very sensational hum of Small- 
talk buzzing about among them. So much 
laughing and fun hardly betokens work, she 
thought, and wondered what had created the 
stir. 'Nor did she have long to wait. 

^^Oh ! Miss Edmonia,’’ cried Agnes, as soon 
as she caught sight of her, ^Mo you know there 
is a real love affair going on in the church ? 
Everybody is talking and laughing over it.’’ 

^^\m I, then, the only one left out in the 
dark? and how is it a church affair?” smiled 
Miss Edmonia. 

^^If you have not noticed it,” said Estelle, ^ 
can only be because you are so far over on the 
other side of the church.” 

‘AVell, tell me quickly who are the happy 


122 The Ivy Vine. 

pair, and why is it so funny?’’ begged Miss 
Morrison. 

^^l)o yon remember the odd little woman who 
comes so regularly to church and prayer- 
meeting, no matter how cold or how hot it is, 
or whether it rains or snows, or hails cobble- 
stones, and always smiles and bobs her head at 
everybody she passes coming out of church, 
whether she knows them or not?” 

Yes, Miss Morrison recognized the portrait. 
‘‘I have often felt the cheery influence of her 
happy good-natured face, and her faithful at- 
tendance at the meetings,” adding softly, 
think I should like to be odd that way.” 

^‘Mamina knows her well,” said Lena Mc- 
Bride, ^^she sometimes gets her to come and help 
her out when she has more work on hand than 
she can get through with. She says Jennie 
has lived for a long time with some cousins, and 
has no nearer kin in the world.” 

^Y)o they support her?” wondered Effie. 

^‘They give her a home, and her food and 
clothes, but she has to do all the work. They 
have a lot of little children which keeps the 
mother busy, and Jennie Hoffman does the 
cooking and housework, and helps with the sew- 
ing. But Jennie says her cousin is ^^awful good 
to her; he gives her money for church regularly 
every week without her asking.” 


The Ivy Vine. 123 

^^That is thoughtful of him/^ said Miss Morri- 
son. 

‘^tJncle Felix says she is so jolly and con- 
tented it does a body good just to look at her/’ 
continued Estelle. 

^^And is she a part of this marvellous love 
atfair queried Miss Morrison, as there came 
a pause. 

‘^Part ! I should say ! She is the heroine — 
think of it ! and she is a real old maid, too, at 
least forty, I am sure.” These exclamations 
came in chorus. 

^‘And what about the other party asked 
Miss Morrison, who had kept her curiosity 
under admirable control during this slow pro- 
cess of satisfaction. 

^AVell, let me tell you !” exclaimed Agnes, 
seizing the floor. 

^^The first we knew of what was going on was 
last Sunday night. As we went into church. 
Uncle Felix touched father’s arm, pointing to 
where Jennie Hoffman sat in one of the short, 
room-for-two pews on our side of the church, 
with a big burly German beside her, and Uncle 
Felix chuckled, in church as it was, as if he 
thought it was the richest kind of a joke. AVhat 
mischief are you up to now ?’ father asked. For 
answer. Uncle Felix whispered back compla- 


124 


The Ivy Vine. 


cently, ^Don’t they look well satisfied ? I never 
did a better job in my life than when I suggested 
to him to go and ask Jennie if she would mind 
his sharing her seat/’ And we left him chuck- 
ling as if he enjoyed it as much as they, and 
as we passed them, we noticed they were chat- 
ting quite cosily while waiting for service to 
begin. When mother saw the big German 
escorting Jennie out of the lecture-room last 
Wednesday night, as if it were a settled matter, 
she told Uncle Uelix he ought to know some- 
thing of the man if he were going to make him- 
self responsible for the match. He insists upon 
it he is all right — a fine old fellow ; as regular 
at church and prayer-meeting as Jennie herself, 
and even at Sunday-school. In reality he knows 
just this much, that he is a laborer at the cooper 
factory. Oh ! yes, and he used to be a soldier in 
the German army.” 

^Us he an old bachelor or a widower Berta 
wanted to know. 

^JJe has never been married, as far as any- 
body knows,” Agnes replied, ^^and that is the 
queer part of it, that both should live to be old 
without any thought of marrying, and then fall 
in love simply because they happen to be seated 
together in church.” 

As everybody had apparently told whatever 


The Ivy Vine. 125 

she knew to tell, the conversation gradually 
drifted to other subjects and matters of more 
serious import. The Mountain Sunday-school, 
of course, came first. 

The four young men, according to agreement, 
had gone out the Sunday following their expe- 
dition, and, by an early hour of the afternoon, 
with the efficient help of Molly, had drummed 
up quite a goodly number of children and some 
adults, making a decidedly encouraging open- 
ing. Almost every week since, there liad been 
more or less additions. At the close of the col- 
lege term, Messrs. Rutherford and Forsythe 
were obliged to go home for the summer holi- 
days, but Gra‘me Gordon and Hugh Baylor 
were on hand, and promised tO' carry on the 
work as best they could, pending the return of 
their faithful comrades. Hobody dreamed how 
the work would grow on their hands during the 
warm weather. 

The girls fully realized that this Sunday- 
school was a responsibility which would have to 
be met every month, and was on their shoulders. 
Various ways and means were proposed to in- 
crease their income. 

^AVhy not ask the church people to help us 
suggested Virgie Wallace.' am sure they 
would/’ 


126 


The Ivy Vine. 


''But we do not like to beg/’ hastily inter- 
posed Agnes, thinking of her mother’s some- 
time comments, and dreading her disapproval. 
"Selling pin-cushions and things is rather too 
much like it for my fancy.” 

"Any way, ought not we rather to depend on 
ourselves ?” questioned Effie ; "we have under- 
taken this work, and I am sure we can do it 
ourselves if we try.” 

"Still, I think Yirgie’s suggestion is worth 
considering ; it does seem selfish to keep all this 
pleasure to oursekves. Only, let’s not call it 
begging, dear, and we will be less apt to feel as 
if it were,” said Miss Edmonia, smiling with 
sweet affection into Agnes’ eyes. "There is a 
great deal in the way a thing is done. If we 
start out with the conviction that these other 
good people are as ready to deny themselves for 
a worthy cause as we are, surely there is no 
begging when we ask, 'Would you like to help 
us with our Mountain Sunday-school V ” 

It ended in Effie and Virgie being appointed 
a committee of two to present the matter per- 
sonally to as many as possible of the gentlemen 
of the congregation, that all who wished might 
make a small monthly contribution, to be called 
for by the girls. IJncle Eelix was the first to 
put his name on the list, and he did it most 


The Ivy Vine. 


127 


heartily. Others, also, appreciated the fact how 
large a matter it was for the girls to carry un- 
aided, and enough was subscribed to place the 
Sunday-school on a solid base. This also left 
the young workers some margin for extraneous 
calls upon their interest. Thus the girls, while 
feeling the responsibility no less, were in no 
danger of being oppressed thereby. 

^^During the next two or three weeks the 
Tdiurch love affair’ developed rapidly. Jennie 
Hoffman, who was as artless as a child, gave 
lierself away in the most absurd fashion when- 
ever approached on the subject. One Wednes- 
day night, Mrs. McBride came out close behind 
the lovers, and, her way home being in the same 
direction, she found herself following them for 
several squares. They were in animated dis- 
cussion over something, but presently he stop- 
ped, slipped a little package into Jennie’s hand, 
then turned with slow reluctance and went in 
the opposite direction. 

Mrs. McBride immediately joined Jennie, 
and opened upon her in good-natured raillery. 
^^Why don’t you make your beau take you all 
the way home?” she asked. 

Jennie tossed her head like a frisky cow, and 
tittered. ^^He wanted to,” she said, ^^but what 
would be the use? I live down here at the 


128 


The Ivy Vine. 


Point, and he way out at the other end of town ; 
I’m used to going home by myself, and he 
wouldn’t have no time tO' stay to-night no way ; 
so I told him I’d rather he’d come some other 
night, and stay longer.” She dropped her head, 
shy as a girl, and grinned all over her homely 
face. 

Then Mrs. McBride wanted to know what 
they had been discussing so animatedly before 
they parted. 

With a fresh little outburst of enjoyment, 
tlennie informed her he had been begging to 
take her into the drug-store to get some soda 
water, hut she told him he had better he saving 
his money; he might want it worse some day. 
^^He said people always liked to treat their 
sweethearts once in a while,” Jennie went on, 
^^but I told him if I was his sweetheart, I knew 
I’d rather he’d save it.” 

IVhen they approached a street lamp, Jennie 
began to fumble with the string of the package 
he had given her. She stopped under the lamp, 
with a shame-faced, apologetic laugh, and said, 
wonder what he’s got in here anyhow ! I 
reckon I’ll have to see !” 

^^Why, yes,” urged Mrs. McBride sympatheti- 
cally, ^^open it by all means.” 

Jennie untied the string with nervous fingers. 


The Ivy Vine. 


129 


and began unwrapping. It was the work of 
some minutes, for whatever it was had been as 
carefully protected as if it were extremely sensi- 
tive to external impressions of some kind. 
When the pavement was well strewn with brown 
and blue and pink and yellow wrapping paper, 
she finally came to a photograph — the broad, 
red, good face of Mr. Schmidt himself. 

^^Hnmph!’’ murmured elennie, blushing and 
beaming with surprise and gratification, ^^he 
must have money to burn 

Soon after this, it was generally known that 
they were actually engaged. 

wonder where she will get wedding 
clothes, and how they expect to livef’ queried 
practical Efiie Blair. 

believe Mr. Schmidt earns one dollar and 
twenty-five cents a day at his trade,’’ spoke up 
Estelle, ^^and Uncle Eelix says, as for the wed- 
ding finery, there’s a job for us girls.” 

^^Let’s do girls,” proposed Effie, ^^we can get 
her a dress and bonnet to be married in, at 
least.” 

The girls were surprised to find how greatly 
interested everybody was in the affair, and how 
ready to give a quarter for ^Svedding finery” 
when opportunity was given. They soon had 
five dollars in hand. 

9 


130 


The Ivy Vine. 


Then Mrs. Graham sent for Berta and Effie 
to ask how it would do to give Jennie a silver 
grey, almost new siunmer silk of hers, laid aside 
for mourning. They thought it would do finely, 
and Mrs. McBride offered to make any needed 
alterations. When some of the girls took it 
down to see about the fit J ennie seriously threat- 
ened to ^^iggle herself away to everlasting 
bliss,’’ as Lena McBride expressed it, over the 
idea of possessing a silk dress. 

Then Lucille and Virgie Wallace asked per- 
mission to supply the bonnet. The necessity of 
economy and an exacting good taste had taught 
them to make and trim for themselves, and so 
many were called for in the family there was 
generally material over for one more. 

^^But what are we to do with the five dollars 
which has been contributed ? 

The question came to Effie’s mind while they 
were talking to Jennie about the dress, and 
prompted her to ask, ^^Will you keep house or 
board after you marry ?” 

Jennie snickered. ^^Seems like you must be 
talking of somebody else ’stead o’ me. They — ” 
indicating her cousins with an odd little toss 
of the head — ^Tliey never thought I’d ever 
marry any more’n I did. Well, Mr. Schmidt 
says he’s kinder tired boardin’, so we went down 


The Ivy Vine. 


131 


to look at some rooms over a grocery. They 
were cheap enough, but I told him I diduT like 
having to come and go through other folks’ store, 
and we’d better go and look at some others we 
had heard of, Avhich didn’t cost but a little more. 
I was most sorry I had said anything,” Jennie 
chattered on tO' the sympathetic girls, ^Tecause 
he began to look kinder sad like, and I thought 
maybe that was all he could afford, as we had to 
buy furniture and all, too. So I ses, ^Oh ! I 
expect this will do all right, and we won’t go to 
look at the others at all.’ That made him chirp 
up a bit, and he says, ^IN’o, we’ll go and see the 
others anyhow.’ The other rooms are lovely, so 
bright and cheery with a side door of our own, 
but I just told him we were not going to think 
about them at all noiv. Maybe they would wait 
until we got our furniture paid for. • Then he 
looked at me so pitiful, and says he, Mennie, 
I’m afraid I can’t take care of you as you de- 
serve to be taken care of ; I expect you had 
better give me up, and take the next, chance.’ 
Humph ! says I, this is the first chance I ever 
did get; tain’t likely I’m going to let you go. 
Well, he was tickled to death over that, and 
never said another word about giving me up.” 
Jennie laughed in artless simplicity, hence the 
girls did not hesitate to join in. 


132 


The Ivy Vine, 


A simultaneous flash of eagerness had passed 
between the girls at mention of the furniture, 
and Lena had burst out in the midst of Jennie’s 
narrative with, ^^Girls, let’s — ” but at a pre- 
monitory look from Effie, she stopped. As soon 
as they got outside the door, they exclaimed to- 
gether, ^‘Suppose we try to get a set of furniture 
for them !” And with some addition to their 
flve dollars, they did succeed in buying a neat 
oak set, including two rockers, a table and 
jDretty shaded lamp. E’ever were two happier, 
more grateful people than Mr. Schmidt and his 
intended, flxing up the apartments of their 
choice with the handsome gift of the church 
people, and whatever else of the useful and 
needful they were able to purchase for them- 
selves. 

Before the eventful day arrived, Jennie had 
everything looking spic and span, floors as white 
as soap and sand and elbow-grease could make 
them, tins shining like silver, and even the 
stove and iron pots polished until you could see 
your face in them. 


CHAPTEll XIII. 


The Beuised Ivy Leaf. 

“ Hope is like the sun, which, as-we journey towards 
it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us.” — Smiles. 

O LIVE BAYLOB had gradually recovered 
her health, until now she was able to sit 
in a wheel-chair the greater part of the day. 

They were still living in the miller’s cottage, 
but another double cabin had been thoroughly 
renovated and fitted for use, and the two con- 
nected by a covered passway. In Olive’s room, 
which was the largest and best, her brothers had 
made many little improvements, adding to its 
comfort, convenience and cozyness. One Satur- 
day afternoon, by preconcerted arrangement 
with ^fihe boys,” Olive was carried over into the 
other part of the house, ostensibly for a change, 
and to see how nicely the male part of the house- 
hold had fixed up their OAvn quarters. In her 
absence, the Ivy Vine surreptitiously took pos- 
session of her room. They did it up in all man- 
ner of pretty toilet ornaments, table-covers and 
dainty draperies, all of their own manufacture, 


134 


The Ivy Vine. 


with flowers on her lamp-stand and a growing 
ivj plant in the window by way of signature. 

As soon as she was well enough, Olive had 
sent for the girls to come to see her. Hence she 
had been pretty well posted with regard to the 
mountain trip and the Sunday-school established 
there. Hugh being one of the active workers, 
she did not lose even the amusing or touching 
incidents which occurred in connection with it. 

The girls had also faithfully reported the pre- 
liminary arrangements for Jennie Hoffman’s 
marriage, and Estelle and Agnes were with her 
now, expressly to tell her of the last act of the 
drama, as far as it could be participated in by 
the outside world. 

Olive, it was too funny for anything!” 
exclaimed Agues. ~ 

^AVell, do tell me all about it.” 

‘^You know, they were married Wednesday 
night at the close of the regular service.” 

‘T^id they go to prayer-meeting as usual?” 
Olive asked, her pale face alight with responsive 
attention. 

^^Ho, I do not think they were there all the 
time, or if so, they must have been very far back, 
or possibly in the pastor’s study. Hearly every- 
body knew of the wedding or marriage, and the 
congregation was unusually large. After the 


The Ivy Vine. 


135 


benediction there was a rather awkward pause. 
Dr. White came down out of the pulpit and took 
his stand on the platform in front, watching the 
door, the rest of us sat down — ’’ 

^^And watched him,’’ interpolated Estelle. 

^AVe soon heard voices at the door, especially 
Uncle Felix, prompting them in a very audible 
whisper, Mennie, you take his arm,’ etc. Every 
face in the room broke into a broad smile and 
turned towards them. Mr. Schmidt was as dig- 
nified as a soldier should be, but it was all Jen- 
nie could do to keep her face straight. Of course, 
the ceremony went off all right.” 

^^Except that Jennie’s emphatic U will’ ^pro- 
voked another grin,” commented Estelle. 

^^Well,” resumed Agnes, ^^after Dr. Wliite had 
shaken hands with the bride and groom, we all 
went up to do the same. Mr. Schmidt still kept 
up his dignity, though his broad, good-natured 
face was intensely smiling, and at each offered 
congratulation he would exclaim with fervor, 
^Oh ! I’ve got a pearl ; I know it !’ As for Jen- 
nie, she would snicker right out in pleased sur- 
prise every time she heard herself called ^Mrs. 
Schmidt.’ ” 

^^And do you know,” said Estelle, ^^it was so 
contagious that the rest of us couldn’t help laugh- 
ing outright.” 


136 


The Ivy Vine. 


Wasn’t it absurd ? and yet they were, under- 
neath their smiling exterior, so dead in earn- 
est.’' 

^^And why should they not be dead in earn- 
est,” said Olive, still laughing. have no 
doubt they are just as much in love as — ^either 
of you may be some of these days.” 

^‘Do you really believe they are in love ?” ques- 
tioned Agnes, incredulously. 

^^Of course I do, dike to like,’ you know. It is 
very well, when it comes to falling in love, that 
all women do not fancy the Same man.” 

At that moment a shadow of pain crossed her 
etherial face. Noting it, Estelle asked, with 
quick anxiety, ‘^Are you suffering, Olive ?” 

^Wes, but I think it will pass off in a little 
while.” 

^‘Sister, Hogue can — !” Elmer had bumped 
into the room in his boyish impulsiveness, stop- 
ping short, abashed at sight of visitors. How- 
ever, he found his tongue again when he discov- 
ered who they were, and, turning to Agnes, who, 
like himself, loved all living creatures, said, 
^^Ah ! Miss Agnes, I have found something at 
last you cannot bewitch. I’ll bet you cannot 
make friends with Hogue in an hour, as you did 
with Hex ! Hogue won’t let anybody touch him 
but :ne.” 


The Ivy Vine. 137 

^‘Wliy do you want him to be so cross and dis- 
agreeable 

^^Ob ! I don’t know. I think it’s lots of fun 
to see everybody afraid of him when I know be 
will not do anything more than bark. Besides, 
I want him to guard my chickens, and I don’t 
care bow sharp he gets.” 

^^But,” persisted Agnes, would much rather 
he should he intelligently sharp than simply 
cross.” 

^Well, come on out, anyway, and see what 
you can do with him.” 

As the door closed after them, Olive, as if 
eagerly embracing the opportunity, leaned 
towards Estelle and laid a tremulous hand on 
her arm. Her face, usually so placid, was 
strained and anxious. 

^^Estelle,” she said, in a low, tense tone, ^^tell 
me, do you believe Julian is dead ?” 

Estelle was so startled by the question she 
knew not how to answer, and Olive continued, 
calming herself by a marvelous effort of will for 
one so frail, ^^They will not let me talk about it, 
which only makes me sure they think he was 
burned to death in the house.” She shuddered, 
and her face twitched with agony. ^^If I be- 
lieved .that it would kill me,” she said, ^^for if 
he did go back into the house it was to get 


138 


The Ivy Vine. 


inotlier’s picture for me, and I could not stand 
it; I could not look you all in tlie face for a 
moment. But I do not, I cannot believe it,’’ 
she went on, vehemently. ^Bt may be foolish 
and unreasonable, but I have the most implicit 
faith and the surest hope we shall hear of him 
again — that he is alive.” She was a little calmer 
now. ^Bt is this hope which keeps me alive. 
Estelle, help me pray he may soon come back 
to us.” 

Estelle answered only with a responsive pres- 
sure of the hand she had clasped. She was one 
of the people who can speak and understand 
many things through the hand which the tongue 
refuses to utter. Moreover, she was thoroughly 
alarmed about Olive, who was leaning back in 
her invalid chair, utterly exhausted, her face a 
death-like pallor, and still repeating, with 
nervous iteration, must hope and be- 

lieve !” 

^^Let’s not talk any more about it now,” 
Estelle begged. ^^You are so tired. Is there 
anything I can do for you ? Yes, I too will hope 
and pray.” 

Olive did not reoj>en her eyes again, but the 
hand grasping Estelle’s was twitching convul- 
sively. Smoothing the hair back from the inva- 
lid’s brow, Estelle was startled by its cold clam- 


The Ivy Vine. 


139 


ininess, and was about to go and call for some of 
the family when the door was opened by Hugh 
to usher in Lucille Wallace. The light-hearted 
words died unuttered as he instantly took note 
of his sister’s threatening condition, and, for 
once in his life, forgetting to offer a visitor a 
chair, he hastened to Olive’s side with the needed 
restoratives. 

As he bent over his sister’s chair, pushing it 
back to a level by a deft movement of his foot, 
he cast a questioning, reproachful glance at 
Estelle, and could not help seeing the painful 
flush which instantly mantled her face. She was 
fully conscious that Olive would not have 
broached this subject to any one else, therefore 
she was, though unwittingly, the cause, as Hugh 
surmised, of her friend’s exhausted condition. 
She got up as if he had bidden it, and went out. 
Lucille, who had been left standing at the door, 
saw none of this, but came forward, now yield- 
ing to a beckoning look from Hugh, and took 
the chair Estelle had vacated beside Olive. 

When assured that the convulsion had been 
successfully warded off, Hugh left Lucille in 
charge, and slipped off to join Estelle on the 
rustic seat under the wild grape vine beside 
the door. He was not surprised to find her look- 
ing tearfully hurt and dejected. He knew how 


140 


The Ivy Yine. 


sensitive she was, and that it was he who had 
wounded her. He had sought her to make what 
amends he could, and also as a safeguard for 
the future. If he had rightly conjectured, they 
had been talking of Julian. He was careful this 
time in broaching the subject, and while Estelle 
readily and penitently admitted it to be true, 
he took all the blame upon himself for not hav- 
ing warned her to avoid the subject. 

^Tather says,’’ he added, ^4t is part of sister’s 
nervous condition to be morbid. She imagines 
she was in some way responsible for his death, 
though she knows, as we all do, that he got out 
of the fire safely when he so nobly risked his 
own life to save hers. How he could have been 
caught by the flames afterward is one of those 
distressing mysteries which, I suppose, can 
never, by any possibility, be solved. Estelle, this 
conversation is very trying to you — ” She was 
sobbing convulsively, in spite of every effort to 
control herself. ^^But” — he laid his hand gently 
on hers, with the affectionate familiarity of an 
older brother — I know you love Olive, and 
would not for the world do her harm.” His 
own manly voice was tremulous with feeling. 
^Tather said we must try, as far as possible, to 
keep her from thinking or being reminded of 
anything relating to the Are until she should 


The Ivy Vine. 141 

grow strong enough to remember and talk of it 
calmly/’ 

And now, having said all that was necessary, 
Hugh kindly sought to beguile Estelle away 
from this distressing subject by talking of the 
Mountain Sunday-school, a common interest to 
both. Then he took her down the hill to the 
spring. She was not slow to take the hint, and 
laved the hot, red eyes and cheeks in the cool 
spring stream until they felt fresh again. They 
wandered on by his flower plots, and gathered 
a rich cluster of maiden-blush roses, which, he 
said, always reminded him of her, but the coun- 
terpart he had provoked was much too vivid to 
verify the likeness. By this time they could 
venture to hunt up Elmer, Agnes and Mr. For- 
sythe. All five came into the house together, the 
little fox-terrier leaping and jumping to Agnes’ 
hand, as if his master were nowhere, in Elmer’s 
freshman parlance. 

Olive, though still pale and weak from her 
recent attack, was almost her own cheery self 
again, under Lucille’s soothing ministry and 
companionship, but her eye followed Estelle 
yearningly. She knew, even better than her 
brother, how intensely sensitive the girl was, 
how morbidly inclined to reproach herself cause- 
lessly. 


142 


The Ivy Vine. 


When eyes and hands met, however, in the 
good-byes, Estelle ansAvered her unspoken ques- 
tion with a smile so satisfying and unclouded 
Olive could not but be content, and for a long 
time the subject, the mention of which had pro- 
diiced such disastrous effects, Avas not again 
broached betAveen them, though both kneAV full 
Avell it Avas never forgotten in any thought or 
prayer for each other. 


CIIAPTEK XIV. 


A College Affair. 

M rs. WALLACE’S parlor was the living- 
room — that is to say, the family gath- 
ering place. As she was accustomed to say, 
^Aly family is so large now, there is no other 
room that will hold us all with a small space 
over to stir around in.” 

There was nothing fine or stilty about it, but 
there was always a chair, or two chairs, just 
Avhere wanted, and facing in the most desirable 
direction, or if it did happen to be otherwise, 
one felt no hesitancy in moving it. Indeed 
every article in the room was on rollers, and 
subject to the pleasure of any occupant. 

Then, in summer it was always cool and fresh 
and sweet, with cut flowers gathered from the 
abundant yard, and in winter it was warm and 
well lighted, with books and magazines lying 
al)Out in tempting places. The family were ac- 
customed to assemble here to enjoy the evening- 
fall, and the young men who boarded there got 
in the habit of dropping in early to enjoy it 
with them. It is not everywhere a young man 


144 


The Ivy Vine. 


off at college can find a home like this in liis 
hoarding house, hut Mrs. Wallace always 
thought of each one as ^^soine other mother’s 
little hoys.” 

This new session had brought her all the 
boarders she could accommodate. The five who 
had been with her the winter before — Forsythe, 
Ttutherford, Duncan, McCann, with Leonard 
and Stanley Sinclair — again occupied their old 
rooms. Besides these, five others, rooming else- 
where, took their meals with her. Of these we 
need only mention Bussell Brent and Gasper 
Comes, who were room-mates and devoted 
friends. 

One evening Brent entered the door with the 
pugilistic exclamation, ^T’d have knocked him 
down if I had been in Stanley’s place !” 

^Tlumph!” interjected Comes at his shoulder, 
and a smile, more or less audible, passed around 
the group at the picture of Stanley Sinclair, 
slim, pale, high-toned, shaking his fist in the 
face of Professor J. Carr Carter, an athlete in 
size and strength, as well as in intellect. 

Fortunately, on this particular evening, Len 
and Stanley Sinclair had gotten hoiiie in time 
to have their ruffled feathers smoothed down by 
gentle womanhood before Brent came in with 
his swagger of fighting talk, but it was not 


The Ivy Vine. 


145 


always so. Professor Carter, who had been 
elected to till the chair of Greek in the place of 
good old ^‘Father Parks, who had died during 
vacation, had come to the college with a repu- 
tation already won, not only for brilliant attain- 
ments and talents, but for indomitable integrity 
in the grading of his classes. 

This had been a chief attraction to the trus- 
tees who aspired to raise the standard of scholar- 
ship somewhat in the college. They had, more- 
over, in ill-advised zeal, forewarned the new 
professor that the students needed reining up 
from the over-leniency of the popular prede- 
cessor. This was peculiarly unfortunate, inas- 
much as Professor Carter was naturally rather 
curt in manner. Several times he had struck 
fire in one and another of the students by an 
over-peremptory tone or a cutting silence. ^Tt is 
only the intolerance of genius,’’ Mother Wallace 
would say, if it happened to be ^^one of her 
boys.” ^^Who knows but one of you may be 
there some day !” This was an oft-repeated 
anodyne, for it tickled their pride to remember 
the young professor was the foremost Greek 
scholar of his age in the United States, and 
among the first irrespective of age. 

Stanley Sinclair and the professor touched 
only on one point, their love for Greek, and the 
10 


146 


The Ivy Vine. 


preeminence in his own specialty aroused Stan- 
ley’s devoutest admiration. Alas ! this glare of 
superiority — ^the having attained the pinnacle 
toward which his own ambition was straining — 
overwhelmed Stanley with such self-abnegation 
that he could never he himself in the class-room, 
or in the presence of the professor. At the same 
time, this painful mauvais honte and self- 
abasement rather excited the professor’s con- 
tempt. He snubbed the hoy so openly as often 
to excite the indignation of the whole class, and 
Len, to whom his younger brother was the im- 
personation of all the admirable qualities and 
talents he himself had missed, would grow more 
furious and retaliative by far than if the pro- 
fessor had threatened himself with some per- 
sonal indignity. The two brothers were un- 
usually popular among the students, and though 
Stanley could, by the earnest persuasion of his 
own knightly gentleness, prevent overt acts on 
the part of his brother, he could by no means 
hinder the continual flings of retaliation and 
championship from the others. 

This state of things went on for several 
months, aggravated rather than otherwise by 
time. Stanley had never gotten any other than 
the highest marks in his life; now they fre- 
quently fell below par. He grew morbid, de- 


The Ivy Vine. 


147 


spondent, siipersensitive ; Len, bitter, reckless, 
vindictive, while the yonng professor, from 
being cold, indifferent, supercilious, became 
severe, sarcastic, and at times absolutely 
rude. 

It was all the Wallace family could do to keep 
down the obstreperous feelings of resentment 
and ill-will. Again and again, as the subject 
was broached at the table, or in twilight dis- 
cussions, they would explain away or find some 
excuse for the professor’s irritation or irritating 
manner, only to have their plausible apologies 
knocked to atoms by the professor’s own rough 
hand or tongue in the next act of the drama. 

^^One might imagine,” said Virgie, one day, 
^ffhat he had some direful domestic skeleton in 
his closet haunting him with rasping tragedies.” 

^A’^et, he has a lovely little wife, who is evi- 
dently devoted to him,” said Lucille. 

^^Sonie one told me his little child is delicate,” 
Mrs. Wallace remarked, extenuatingly. 

The crisis came, as it had to come. It hap- 
pened on this wise. Stanley, without a thought 
of disrespect, which would have been utterly 
foreign to his nature, became so enthusiastic 
over the lesson one day, he forgot his habitual 
self-abasement, and took issue with his pre- 
ceptor over an opinion expressed. 


148 


The Ivy Vine. 


Whereupon the professor answered him with 
brusque, sharp emphasis, ^^The young gentleman 
will please to remember he is student^ not 
teacher in this class.’’ 

Sinclair bit his lip, with flashing eyes; his 
slow temper, buried under such a might of gen- 
tleness, was touched at last, and blazed. 

^^Does he think I am a child to be told to shut 
my mouth !” he muttered. And, still without 
any thought of intentional defiance, got up and 
left the room. The professor irately ordered 
him back, but the young fellow did not even 
hear him. Whereupon, as is often the case, he 
vented his spleen over the heads of the, on this 
occasion, unoffending ones who remained. 

The class was dismissed in a buzz of excite- 
ment that rapidly spread throughout the college. 
^^How great a matter a little fire kindleth !” 

Russell Brent was in his element. have 
never been good so long before in my life,” he 
had told Mrs. Wallace only the night before, 
adding, am fairly spoiling for some deviltry, 
if Len and Stanley Sinclair do not soon give me 
a chance, I will have to make a break on my 
own behalf.” 

Mi"s. Wallace had laughed heartily, never 
dreaming of prophecy in his fun. 

Brent was shoulder to shoulder with Len Sin- 


The Ivy Vine. 


149 


clair now, and Comes, with his handsome, covert 
face was at his other elbow. When they came 
to Slipper, Brent was as gay as an Indian danc- 
ing his war dance. 

^^It’s lots of fun to fight other people’s bat- 
tles,” he said to Lucille. 

^^Why, have you been trying it?” she smiled, 
innocently. 

but I am going to do that same.” He 
raised his voice to a grandiloquent pitch, and 
spoke sententiously, ^Trom this time forth, I 
espouse the cause of Stanley Sinclair, and, be- 
lieving it to be entirely just, will maintain it 
against all adversaries.” 

^BTear ! Hear !” promptly responded his fel- 
low-students around the table in hearty sym- 
pathy. 

Lucille and Virgie and Mrs. Wallace looked 
at each other, and then searchingly from face 
to face around them in vague, elusive apprehen- 
sion. 

What talking followed was mostly between 
the young men. There was an evident avoid- 
ance of tete-a-tete with the Wallace family. 

A hectic fiush had mounted to Stanley’s face 
as Brent spoke his name, and he bit his lip in 
resolute repression of any personal response by 
word or look. As they left the table he gripped 


150 


The Ivy Vine. 


liis brother’s arm, drawing him away from the 
rest, and Agatha heard him pleading, ^Ten, if 
yon have any regard for me or my future, keep 
out of it !” 

Little Agatha, with her keen, instinctive per- 
ception of change in the mental or moral atmos- 
phere, could not but be conscious of the un- 
wonted excitement, and crept up beside her 
friend, Mr. Lorsythe, begging to know what the 
students were going to do. 

^Must have a little college-boy fun,” he told 
her, but turned away from her questioning so 
abruptly she was highly disgusted, and said she 
knew the boys were up to some mischief, and had 
drawn Mr. Forsythe into it; then worried all 
evening, and could hardly go to sleep for won- 
dering. 

Uncle Felix, also, had had his suspicions. 
Half sentences caught from one and another of 
the young men as they talked in eager groups 
in his store; the unmistakable leadership of 
Comes, whose unspeaking face he mistrusted, 
and of Brent, whose fearless dare^deviltry be- 
spoke him dangerous; the buying and discuss- 
ing of certain materials, as if of common interest 
to them all — these and similar signal-lights led 
him to fear something in the wind which would 
breed trouble, and the drawing off from the 


The Ivy Vine. 


151 


other boys of Stanley Sinclair, and his uneasy 
restlessness whenever he saw them grouping, 
clearly indicated that he had an unwilling part 
in whatever was going on. Mr. Graham had 
tried more than once to ingratiate himself into 
the thick of the discussions, as heretofore he had 
always been welcome to do. This time they 
laughingly gave him the cold shoulder. am 
afraid you are too good to be trusted,’’ Brent 
had said, good-naturedly, as he turned on his 
heel and left him. 

This was just before supper, and not a man 
of them came near his store again that evening, 
except one of the freshmen, to buy a little black 
paint. ( 

The sun went down in red wrath. The chapel 
bell rang the hours as usual. Lights went out 
over the toAvn, and later the college dormitories 
fell under the sombre spell of night. The last 
twinkling student’s lamp was extinguished. 

As the town clock on the tall spire of the oldest 
church tolled out its twelve silver chimes of mid- 
night, muffled figures issued stealthily from the 
many doors of the dormitory. Not a click of the 
well-oiled latches marked their egress, and the 
hushed footsteps on the campus might have been 
those of ghosts. 

A little way down the smooth slope of the 


152 


The Ivy Vine. 


la^vn, exactly in front of Professor Carter’s 
house stood a large oak tree, with a great hori- 
zontal limb reaching out toward the college 
buildings. Under this the ghostly shadows were 
dimly gathering. There was no moon. Even 
the stars were hiding their bright faces behind 
a cloud from the deed that was about to be done. 
A posse of the imps had levied on somebody for 
a wagon, and the shadows parted, right and left, 
before the human team, leaving way for them 
to draw it up under the giant arm of the tree. 
The wagon was not empty. Two dark objects 
moved in unison in the midst. As it stopped in 
the centre of the deepest gloom, the hand of the 
rear occupant flashed the light of a dark lantern 
over the face and form of the other. 

Suppressed murmurs of applause swept over 
the dusky assembly, as they recognized the class- 
room expression of the new professor. The 
artist had done his work wonderfully well. 

^^Swing her up!” came in the low, leading 
voice of Pussell Brent. 

A multitudinous chorus murmured its assent. 
Xo one heard the voice on the outskirts of the 
crowd that trembled with its pleading — ^^Don’t 
do it ! please don’t do it I” or if Bussell Brent 
heard, he purposely drowned it with his still 
more emphatic, ^^Swing her up !” and the shroud- 


The Ivy Vine. 


153 


like cloak could not conceal the tall, sinewy form 
and long, graceful arms of the Spanish Creole, 
Comes, as he lifted the effigy from the wagon, 
and thus gave the signal for it to be slowly drawn 
up between heaven and earth beneath the out- 
stretched arm of the noble tree, with the light 
of the dark lantern continuously on its face. 
There the merry-makers, who thought they had 
for once found their fun in the line of just re- 
quittal, left their night’s work to await the reve- 
lations of the morning light, the crowd silently 
melting aAvay as they had come. 

!N^one noted a pair of alert, detective eyes 
which had followed the whole thing from the 
beginning, passing in and out among the throng, 
and recognizing many of the faces, groAvn care- 
less in their excitement. They disappeared with 
the rest. Only Stanley Sinclair was left with 
his brother Len. Stanley threw off his cloak, 
and, sitting down on a stone, gazed helplessly 
up at the absurd caricature dangling from the 
limb of the tree in the dim light of the ncAvly- 
risen moon. 

^T don’t see that any great harm has been 
done,” Len muttered, sullenly: ^^N^ot half what 
he deserAns, and I don’t see Avhy I couldn’t have 
a hand in it !” 


154 


The Ivy Vine. 


am so glad you didn^t. Oh ! Len, it will 
be the greatest comfort of my life that you had 
nothing to do with it.’’ 

^^^^either had you ?” Len spoke quickly, with 
a suspicious interrogation. 

wish my conscience were clear in the mat- 
ter, but — I fear I did it all — with my one rash 
speech !” He put his face down in his hands 
in utter dejection. 

Lor a moment there was a struggle with Len 
between his love for his brother and his hatred 
of those who caused that brother pain. 

At length he said, with slow reluctance, ‘H 
can take it dowm, if you want me to 

^^Could you, Len? — and will you? You are 
the dearest brother man ever had !” 


CHAPTER XV. 


Afteewards. 


“ If we had known those feet were weary, 

Climbing up the hills of pain.” —Anon. 



HEX the chapel-bell gave an ominous 


twang at an unusual hour next morning 


the students easily surmised what it meant. 
Those who passed the old oak tree, Russell Brent 
among the number, took warning notice that 
the effigy had already been removed. 

^HTl bet that sneak, Stanley Sinclair — ’’ he 
muttered, in sudden revulsion of wrath. 

They were not surprised to find the President 
in a royal rage of indignation. His address 
spoke impressively of the honorable standing of 
the college from its foundation ; of the high 
standard hitherto upheld by the students — as 
gentlemen — and now, in the seventieth year of 
the institution, when the faculty had been con- 
gratulating themselves on having an unusually 
fine set of young men, to have them blot their 
record with a disgraceful episode, such as that 
of last night, was mortifying in the extreme, be- 
sides being derogatory to themselves and to a 
State hitherto held preeminent for hospitality 
and courtesy — ’’ 


156 


The Ivy Vine. 


^^Courtesy begets courtesy muttered Brent, 
and all the President’s eloquence was lost for the 
time on him and those who took his cue. Hence 
the students, safe under the shelter of numbers, 
defied the worst, and refused to confess or to 
betray the leaders. So the fiat went forth, ^^Ten 
demerits against every student until the guilty 
confess.” At the same time the class-rooms were 
closed until further orders. 

Of course, by breakfast-time the whole affair, 
as far as it could be known, was blown by the 
winds to the uttermost bounds of the town, and 
the students were beset by eager curiosity to tell 
the rest. The bell-call at so early an hour roused 
everybody to questioning, and some prowling 
darkies, curiosity drawn, told of the goblin work 
they had caught a glimpse of on the collegie 
campus; from the faculty meeting, preceding 
the summoning of the students, leaked out a 
little more, and it was not hard, with what 
everybody knew of the condition of feeling ex- 
isting toward the young professor, to guess the 
rest. But those of the students who had taken 
no part were as mum as the most active partici- 
pants, accepting their share of opprobrium and 
demerits rather than betray their fellows. 

Brent’s spirits were in nowise less high than 
they had been the day before. He even went so 


The Ivy Vine. 


157 


far as to hold up to ridicule the speech of the 
President. wish you could have heard the 
old gentleman pleading, with tears in his eyes, 
that his dear students would not disgrace their 
alma mater, and bring his gray hairs down in 
sorroAv to the grave, by withholding the name of 
the wicked fellow who, for reckless fun, had gone 
out in the dark alone and swung up the ghost 
of a beloved professor, in order to worship it, 
and then, for a little more fun, taken it down 
again. Oh ! it was rich, rare and absurd — as 
if a fellow was going to tell on himself for a 
lump of sugar.’’ 

With Pussell Brent’s intonations and gestures 
it was impossible not to laugh, as he ran on, in a 
continuous stream of nonsense. But Lucille and 
Virgie laughed, with an anxious gravity tread- 
ing on the heels of mirth, while little Agatha 
smiled because the rest seemed to think it funny, 
but candidly averred, do not think it is funny 
at all until I know what you all did.” 

The Wallaca girls knew Professor Carter very 
slightly, and were in such full sympathy with 
the boys it did not seem a very dreadful thing 
that they had done, yet felt it must be, or the 
faculty would not be treating it as such a serious 
matter. 

The whole time they were at the table little 


158 


The Ivy Vine. 


Agatha, but little distracted by the grandiose 
rhetoric of Mr. Brent or the forced gayety of 
the others, Avatched the faces, one and another, 
Avith her penetrative gaze, and this Avas her con- 
clusion, spoken Avith her seer-like eyes fixed on 
Brent, as they Avere leaving the house, ^Bf I Avere 
the President of the college, I Avould not try to 
make them all tell aaIio Avas the leader. I Avould 
just ask Mr. Brent up and doAvn if he did not 
knoAV.’’ 

Of course they all laughed uproariously at 
this piece of childish Avisdom — all except Stan- 
ley Sinclair. Stanley cared little for the threat- 
ened demerits, as far as he Avas personally con- 
cerned. He had been Avell aAvare for some time 
that his loAv averages in Greek Avould loAver his 
general standing far beloAv Avhat it had ever been 
before, hence this deficiency in deportment did 
not distress him much. Hor had he as yet begun 
seriously to disturb himself over the ban laid 
upon others, in a sense on his behalf. Yet the 
Avhole affair hurt him more and. more, as the 
sloAv hours of the long day passed Avith the class- 
rooms closed. • 

He felt as if a taint had fallen upon his 
knighthood. It Avas such a little thing to make 
a fuss about, such a cruel retort to throAV con- 
tempt on a stranger for a feAV, perhaps uninten- 


The Ivy Vine. 


159 


tionally, roiigii speeches. Stanley’s conscience 
would listen to no extennation from himself nor 
from Len. It was childish retaliation, and he 
was most to hlame, for it was his careless, 
thoughtless words, which had appealed to the 
childishness, the dare-devil spirit of the students 
under cover of championship of a weaker friend. 

When the stars came out that night, they saw 
a solitary figure pacing the campus with slow, 
troubled tread, beneath the memorable oak tree. 

The young men were supposed to be in their 
rooms for the night, though it still lacked a few 
minutes of the last hell. 

Stanley could not make up his mind to go to 
bed without having made the amende honorable 
to the Professor first, then to the students, and 
then to the faculty through the President. He 
must not give his courage time to cool. A few 
strides brought him to the house ; a light step or 
two across the porch to the door. But, in passing 
the window of the study, a sight met his eye 
which caused a sudden revulsion of feeling, and 
almost drove him from his purpose. Professor 
Carter sat by his table alone, with his head 
bowed on his hand in the most abject dejection. 
Ho blind nor curtain shielded him from the gaze 
of a possible passer-by. 

The man sank low in Stanley’s estimation; 


160 


The Ivy Vine. 


he could not help it. As hard, and hitter, and 
critical as he had often felt toward him, he had 
given him credit for manly independence. lie 
had never dreamed he would take so to heart 
a piece of school-boy fun. The young lip, so 
unused to any other than gentle curves, curled 
with something of haughty contempt. But, then, 
the necessity of righting himself was entirely 
independent of anything the Professor might he, 
or do, or — seem. 

The front door stood slightly ajar, yet Stan- 
ley’s un aggressive knock was not heard, not even 
when repeated. There was nothing to do hut 
to enter and knock softly at the study door. 

^^Come in !” came from within. The Profes- 
sor had lifted his head, hut not a gleam of 
pleasure, or relief, or gratification, flitted over 
the stern, hitter, broken face, not even surprise. 
t Stanley’s humhly-worded apologies and confes- 
sions died on his lips in wonderment. Surely 
the man must surmise what was bringing him 
there at that hour ! 

Por several seconds they gazed at each other 
mutely. 

At length the Pi-ofessor got up and held out 
his hand, not a muscle of the stolid features 
moving, and pointed to a chair, with a low, me- 
chanical murmur, ^Tt is kind of you to come.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


161 


Instinctively Stanley felt there was something 
more than he knew. His pity stirred to see a 
strong man bowed like that, though he knew not 
for what — certainly it could not be, as he had 
imagined, mere mortified self-appreciation. He 
began to wonder if he had ever heard at all of 
the foolish affair of last night, and to feel mor- 
tified himself that he could have attached so 
much importance to it. Concern for his own 
tarnished shield went glimmering into obscurity 
before this great unknown shadow. All of his 
own grievances were forgotten as he said, with 
genuine manly sympathy, ^^Professor, I fear 
you are in some kind of trouble. Is there any- 
thing I can do to help you 

With a quick start of surprise. Professor Car- 
ter looked down at his visitor, and for a moment 
his stern lip quivered uncontrollably. ^Wou do 
not know?’’ he questioned, then turned dully 
and led the way into the adjoining room, tread- 
ing softly, as if afraid of awakening a sleeping 
babe. 

A small lounge-bed stood in the middle of the 
room, draped in snowy white. 

The man knelt beside it, and, with tender, 
reverent touch, turned down the covering from 
a waxen cherub face of marvellous beauty — a 
little golden-haired girl. Oblivious for the time 
11 


162 


The Ivy Vine. 


to all else, he moaned, in bitter sorrow, ! 
my baby ! my baby 

How Stanley’s heart smote him. How puny 
the indignity they had offered to one lifted so 
high above them by the sacredness of grief. The 
insult had thus far evidently missed its mark, 
and it should for all time, if he had aught to do 
with it, was the young man’s resolve. 

Stanley knelt on the other side and gently 
dislodged a fly out of place on the perfectly 
chiseled nose. 

^^How long was she sick ?” he questioned. 

^TTow long !” the father echoed, drearily. 
^^Her short life was one long day of suffering 
that I could not bear for her.” As he spoke he 
turned the cover down, displaying two tiny 
hands, crossed over a pitifully deformed little 
body. And the strong man, whose arms had 
been her cradle night after night, walking the 
floor for hours to soothe her into a few moments 
rest, leaned his head on the little cot and sobbed 
like a child. 

When he looked up at last, and saw tears of 
genuine feeling coursing down Stanley’s cheeks, 
he was greatly moved. Their hands met in a 
warm, strong compact of friendship across the 
lovely little soulless casket of beloved clay, and 
the old feud was dead. 


The Ivy Vine. 


163 


xVll through the quiet hours of the night they 
sat in the study and talked. It was a relief to 
the father to tell how beautiful and perfect the 
child had been at her birth ; of the appearance 
and slow development of the terrible disease 
which had made her a hopeless, helpless suf- 
ferer ; of her sweet and wonderful patience for 
the past year or two, and of the fiery ordeal of 
suffering in which her life had closed at last. 

‘‘I cannot but be thankful it is over, for her 
own sake,’’ he said at last. ^^It was fearful even 
to witness such agony ; her mother could scarcely 
stay in the room at all. What must it have been 
for a little, frail figure to have to endure it 1 
Therein is the mystery of it. Why should it 
have to be ? She had never sinned. And if it 
was for my sin, why could not I bear the penalty 
myself ?” 

^^The same old stumbling-block of Job’s 
friends,” ventured Stanley, modestly, ^^and 
though God so manifestly disproved their reason- 
ing, Christ had to meet the same fallacy among 
his disciples — ^Master, who hath sinned, this 
man or liis parents, that he was born blind V ” 

^Wou think it was not punitive ?” 

^Alost assuredly.” 

^‘Then what ? — remedial ?” 

Both were silent for a moment. Then Pro- 
fessor Carter said, gently, ^^Thank you.” 


164 


The Ivy Vine. 


When Stanley rose at length to go, Professor 
Carter, holding his visitor’s hand between his 
ovoi two, said, ^‘T fear we have sadly misunder- 
stood each other, hitherto.” 

fear we have, and, not knowing this” — 
looking down on the little maid, and involun- 
tarily murmuring, ^‘She is not dead, but 
sleepeth” — came to acknowledge my part of 
it and ask forgiveness.” 

^^It is already forgotten, and it shall not be so 
any longer, shall it ?” 

He looked down at the boyish figure before 
him with a pathetic yearning in his deep, sad 
eyes. 

^^Indeed, it shall not !” responded Stanley, 
warmly. ^Wnd I cannot tell you how much I 
shall enjoy the privilege of admiring you as 
much as I wish.” 

^Tove — not admire!” the other said, with a 
touch of his old curtness, wincing before the self- 
pointed reproof. 

^Wes,” admitted Stanley, fiushing under the 
correction, ^dove I should have said, truly, for 
there has been no stint in my admiration all the 
time.” 

Thus they smiled and parted. Thenceforth 
hot prejudice only, but the natural restraints 
between professor and student, were annihilated. 
The two became as David and Jonathan. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


A Slight Breeze Among the Ivy Leaves. 



OBODY except Len knew where Stanley 


1 had spent the night, but everybody knew 
that Professor Carter’s little daughter and only 
child had died at six o’clock that afternoon. The 
most reckless of the students could only mention 
the events of the night before in hushed, regret- 
ful whispers. Even Russell Brent, slipping his 
hand into Stanley’s arm as they passed out of 
the dining-room, said, called you some ugly 
names, old fellow, when I thought you had 
played ^king’s evidence’ to the President, and 
taken the image down before it had done a mite 
of good. But I take them all back. As things 
have turned out, I am glad somebody did take 
the thing down. It would have been pretty 
rough on the young porcupine, under the circum- 
stances. Perhaps some of these days we will try 
it again when it will not look so mean.” 

^^I am sure we will never want to do it again,” 
said Stanley, warmly. We will all like the Pro- 
fessor better, no doubt, if we will give ourselves 
time to know him.” 


166 The Ivy Vine, 

Stanley was then on his way to see President 
Blair. 

Without incriminating any one, he made a 
clean breast of the whole affair, acknowledging 
they had been too hasty in taking up a prejudice 
against a stranger, adding, ^We are all so deeply 
mortified to find that at the very time we were 
having our ugly fun the Professor was suffering 
under the deepest affliction. I do not think you 
need apprehend any further trouble. And, don’t 
you think, sir,” the young man concluded, ^fit 
would be as well — the most kindly thing you 
know — not to mention the disgraceful affair to 
Professor Carter, for I am pretty sure he does 
not know of it as yet, until such time in the 
future as he can look upon it merely as the 
failure of a poor joke 

Stanley was very much in earnest, and little 
dreamed the man to whom he Avas talking had 
witnessed the whole occurrence, and could, there- 
fore, fully appreciate the noble self-abnegation 
which was willing to assume the opprobrium of 
what he had tried in vain to prevent. 

As these events all came in between two Satur- 
days, there was quite a good deal to talk about 
when the girls next met, a buzz of ^^they says” 
and beards.” Berta and Effie Blair and 
Estelle and Agnes Graham naturally took the 


The Ivy Vine. 


167 


part of the faculty, and thought it was a dread- 
ful shame for the students even to plan such an 
indignity on one of the professors. On the other 
hand, the Wallaces, being brought into such 
close, daily contact with a part of the students, 
just as naturally sympathized entirely with 
them. Miss Edmonia thought it very well for 
them to have an opportunity to air the pros and 
cons; but she was a wise little woman, and was 
watching the exact moment to switch them off 
from the subject before the discussion could 
grow uncomfortably warm. Berta had just said, 
with that haughty toss of her pretty head, 
think Russell Brent must be one of those Ken- 
tucky desperadoes the papers have so much to 
tell about And Virgie had answered, with a 
defensive kindling of her quiet eyes, ^^Mamma 
says she never saw a more gentle-hearted man, to 
be so big and strong in every way.” 

^^That is just what father told Uncle Felix 
about Professor Carter,” said Agnes. 

^‘Well,” interposed Miss Edmonia. have 
an idea we had better let the men fight their 
own battles now, and come to something that 
concerns ourselves more nearly. Do you know 
Thanksgiving is only two weeks off? and we 
want to work out our motto then of all the times 
of the year.” 


168 


The Ivy Vine. 


Any little bait of suggestion from Miss Mor- 
rison was sure to be caught up by somebody’s 
little fish of thought, hence her task was an easy 
one, and after an hour’s brisk interchange of 
ideas and opinions, the girls started homeward, 
full of plans to be worked out in kindly deeds, 
each in her own sweet way and sphere. They 
were to keep them all to themselves until after- 
'Avards, except in so far as they needed to ask 
for help, but the first meeting in December 
would be, as Miss Morrison expressed it, ^^an 
experience meeting.” 

However, thanksgiving kindnesses could not 
have full possession of the thoughts of these 
young people. I can by no means say they were 
'^not like other girls.” Tor some of them the 
day had other meanings also. 

^Alother says,” quoted Berta, on the way 
home, ^hhe best way to keep, thanksgiving is to 
help other people to be thankful. And that is 
the reason father always has his hhanky-tea,’ 
as the boys call it, for the fellows that are fresh- 
est from home.” This was said explanatorily 
for the benefit of the Wallaces who had moved 
to town just after the last occasion of the 
kind. 

For several years past President Blair had 
made a point of thus utilizing Thanksgiving 


The Ivy Vine. 


169 


Day — calling for a simple five-o’clock tea, in- 
stead of the accustomed elaborate dinner. The 
comparatively small amount of labor required 
equalized the burden laid upon wife and ser- 
vants, and, therefore, detracted nothing from the 
benevolence of it. It needs hardly be said that 
this custom planned by the elders in strictest 
accord with the true idea of thanksgiving was 
found by the young people of the family, as well 
as by the students, to combine therewith a most 
enjoyable evening beside the yearly anticipation. 
Is it not the prerogative of youth to find, under 
given- conditions, the greatest amount of enjoy- 
ment? Berta and Effie, being the only daugh- 
ters of President Blair, had of necessity had 
some share in the entertainment ever since they 
were quite small, but were only now beginning 
to appreciate it as ^^grown-ups,” though still 
young. 

Young ladies were not overabundant in 
Bridgeton, lienee their services were called into 
requisition at a rather early age to assist at enter- 
tainments. Accordingly, this informal tea on 
the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day, without con- 
scious intention, had become the special occasion 
for the first appearance of debutantes, as admit- 
ting the public attentions of the numerous stu- 
dents who were temporary residents of the town. 


170 


The Ivy Vine. 


by virtue, no doubt, of its being particularly 
designed for the younger men of the college. 

^^Of course, invitations have been sent to Miss 
Tuicille and Virgie Wallace,’’ Effie said to 
Estelle, ^^and mother wanted to have you and 
Agnes this year; both of you are quite as tall 
as I, if Agnes is younger. But your mother 
said she could not think of allowing Agnes to 
begin that sort of thing so early. She had no 
objection to your coming, if you wanted to. Will 
you come?” 

don’t know — ” hesitated Estelle. be- 
lieve I would rather wait for Agnes. I don’t 
know how to talk to the boys, anyway,” and she 
gave a little laugh of self-derision. 

^Tather says,” quoted Effie, ^^that but for that 
affair the other night he would have considered 
the new men of this year an unusually fine set 
of fellows.” 

Several of them, you know, are Yale stu- 
dents,” Berta interluded, with a speck of par- 
donable uplift of proprietary pride in ^ffiur own 
college.” 

^^And the strange part of it is,” resumed Effie, 
^^they are drawn by the reputation of that same 
professor whom now they are delighting to dis- 
honor. He was a graduate of A^ale, you know.” 

^^Of course these men have to be invited — at 


171 


The Ivy Vine. 

least, father and mother think so,’’ said Berta, 
with a differentiating shake of the head, ^^be- 
cause it is their first year here, though they are 
not really freshmen. Mother said it would never 
do to draw the line on them at this time, though 
I must confess 1 think there is very good 
reason.” 

A moment later they came to the parting of 
the ways. 

Berta and Effie Blair were unusually handy 
with their needles, could even make their own 
dresses under their mother’s supervision. But, 
for this special occasion, Berta, as the eldest 
daughter of the house, had been promised the 
honor of a dress made by her mother’s dress- 
maker. Over this, as was natural, the dainty 
damsel was considerably elated. But peculiar 
favors and privileges do not always render us 
peculiarly happy. Bhe very day Berta went 
with her mother to take the dress to Mrs. Deaver, 
she came home angry and disappointed. 

She threw her hat on the bed with a spiteful 
little toss, glancing expectantly toward her 
mother as she did it. 

“Do not leave it there, dear ; no more trouble 
to put it aAvay now than later,” was the gentle 
rebuke she knew was coming. 

If the hat had had any thoughts of its own, it 


172 


The Ivy Vine. 


must have wondered what had gotten into those 
usually gentle and careful fingers to make them 
so rough and reckless. As soon .as she was out 
of sight of her mother, Berta began to mumble 
and grumble. do not see why she could not 
work for us as well as anybody else ! Mother 
was the very first one to give her a trial, too, I 
have heard her say so, and run the risk of ruin- 
ing a handsome dress. 'Now, the hateful old 
thing puts everybody ahead of us, and I just 
know I am' not going to get my dress.” 

^AVhat is the matter ?” asked Effie, looking up 
from a lapful of dark blue merino. 

Effie told her grievance with no stint of hard 
words, for Berta, generally amiable and kind, 
had been changed into another girl by this unto- 
Avard disappointment, and was acting, as she 
herself said afterwards, like a naughty child. 

^^All the work she can do for a week yet — and 
two of her working girls sick?” echoed Efiie. 
^^Then how could you expect her to do it, 
Berta — at least, right away ?” Effie’s direct 
question stayed for a moment the torrent of re- 
bellious complainings, hut only for a moment. 

do not see why other people could not be 
put off as well as Ave,” grumbled Berta, Avith 
persistent crossness. 

Efiie made no effort to conceal her surprise 


The Ivy- Vine. 


173 


and contempt at this Imwonted ebullition of tem- 
per, and said, witheringly, ^‘I’m sure mother 
would not ask her to break promises she had 
made to others/’ Her eyes dropped back to her 
own work, and soon her needle was clicking in- 
dustriously hack and forth through the blue 
merino. 

Presently Berta’s silent, moody thoughts 
began to follow the gleaming of the needle’s 
quick, regular movements ; to get mixed up with 
the soft, blue folds; to wonder if her own dress, 
just like this, would not have been quite as pretty 
if made at home also. When the calming silence 
had lasted some minutes, Effie again dropped her 
work and looked up. tell you what, Berta, 
suppose you help me with my dress, so I can 
get it entirely done this week ; then, when Mrs. 
Deaver is ready to begin on yours, you and I 
can go down there, if mother is willing, and help 
on it in place of those two girls who are sick. In 
that way we can manage to get it done. I am 
sure, right under Mrs. Deaver’s eye and direc- 
tions, we can do as well as they.” 

Berta did not take to the idea very eagerly. 
It seemed rather a toning down, or trimming off, 
of her honor to have to help make a dress which 
was to have been a genuine dressmaker’s work, 
nevertheless, she could not help falling into the 


174 


The Ivy Vine. 


plans Effie was mapping out so enthusiastically, 
and which only needed their mother’s sanction, 
Mrs. Deaver’s consent, and her own ordinary 
reasonableness and good nature to be decided on. 

Friday afternoon they finished EfSe’s dress, 
and it was so pretty and becoming Berta won- 
dered if the dressmaker could do any better. 

Alongside of this query came an unspoken 
regret for her childish behavior with regard to 
hers. She felt now, in the reaction, that she 
would really prefer to have it made at home, 
only she knew there was not time to get it done. 
We will leave the rest for Berta to tell at the 
December meeting. 

Meanwhile the ^Mdianky-tea” came off quite 
pleasantly, though Mrs. Blair had felt no little 
apprehension lest Professor Carter’s absence 
should tempt the students’ tongues to wag un- 
warily concerning him. This, she knew, would 
provoke her husband, who had been very much 
wrought up over their escapade. He had in- 
sisted upon making a public example of the 
leaders; but she had begged for them, as they 
Avere both neAV men, and she knew any severity 
of discipline at that time would spoil her 
Thanksgiving tea, while the pleasant entertain- 
ment might really answer the purpose best, 
anyway. 


The Ivy Vine. 175 

^^Remember, girls, your first duty is to see 
that everybody is having a good time,’’ was 
always her final and repeated injunction to her 
daughters. This time it received an extraor- 
dinary emphasis from her own anxiety. 

The house was tastefully decorated with trail- 
ing cedar and the bright orange and red berries 
of the bitter-sweet vine. The girls all looked 
exceptionally pretty in their sweet, simple, girl- 
ish dresses. 

Of course, the students were out in full force, 
all who had a right to an invitation. 

Russell Brent, with a feeling of diffidence and 
self-depreciation entirely foreign to his nature, 
hegged Lucille Wallace to ^^chaperone” him. 
And she, in fullest sympathy, accepted the chal- 
lenge and prepared to defend him from every 
spiteful shaft of witticism, criticism or ma- 
licious neglect. She did not know her hosts well 
enough to know how little she had to fear on this 
score. However, she went with Mr. Brent 
through the necessary formalities of speaking 
to the host, etc. And then took her seat beside 
him in a shadowy corner, determined to devote 
the whole evening to him, rather than he should 
feel what she knew to be the attitude of the 
family toward him. ^^If they could know him 
right well, they would like him as well as we 



176 


The Ivy Vine. 

do/’ she was meditating, when Berta, with a 
sudden qualm of her hospitality conscience, a 
sudden remembrance of her mother’s charge, 
spied the couple, and, realizing how long they 
had been together, brought over a relief party. 

^^Miss Blair, must you turn me over imme- 
diately to somebody else ?” Mr. Brent asked, 
with a daring he only would have been capable 
of. greatly desire to become better ac- 

quainted with you.'''’ 

There was a captivating deference of man- 
ner, as he bent his head eagerly toward her, and 
his strong white teeth gleamed in a most winning 
smile. 

Even in that one moment Berta understood 
better the Wallace’s championship. Still, her 
smile was a little constrained, as she replied, 
fear I must, for see ! there is one of the girls 
over there in the bay-window who has no one 
to talk to, and this is her first season, 
too.” 

^^Suppose I rebel, what will be the conse- 
quence ?” 

^^In that case, I could only leave' you to take 
care of yourself, while I should seek some one 
else more gallantly willing to help me out.” 

The young Kentuckian surrendered at discre- 
tion, so promptly and so gracefully, Berta hardly 


The Ivy Vine. 


177 


realized until afterwards that lie had stipulated 
his own conditions. 

The first time he saw her for a moment alone 
he seized a passing student to take his place with 
the debutante, and joined her. 

Mr. Brent had resolved, before the evening 
was over, to set himself right with his severest 
judges, the President’s family. Beyond that, 
he cared little for the demerits, as he was not try- 
ing for any honor or prize. At the end of his 
half-hour conversation with Berta, he was fully 
conscious that he had made a good beginning, 
at least, in that direction. 


12 


CHAPTEE XVII. 


The Ivy Leaves Give an Account of Them- 
selves. 

“What have I done that’s worth the doing?” 


-Isaac Watts. 



T was a clear, cold day, that first Saturday 


JL of December. Jack Frost, always a fidgety 
fellow when he gets among the mountains, had 
long ago hustled the trees out of their summer 
clothes, and persuaded Dame Nature to pack 
them carefully away, so that they could be 
brought out fresh as new in the spring. Having 
taken this much on himself, Jacky might as well 
have persuaded Father Winter to be in a hurry 
about sending on his ermine mantles, which 
were specially needful for the wheat fields. 

It seemed as if old man Winter had forgotten 
the wheat fields, and was only intent on tough- 
ening' the trees. Whatever his motive, the 
wheat fields had smiled their greenest in vain, 
and the trees had stretched out their bare arms 
in unavailing appeal up to this time. The trees 
no doubt did grow sturdier and stronger from 
rough romping with the wind, and the sun 


The Ivy Vine. 


1Y9 


always lias a warm heart for everybody. He 
had been doing his best. His warm, bright, 
loving face was almost equal to snow coverlets 
and cloaks. With his help, and by dint of hug- 
ging the tiny, delicate speers of wheat closely 
in her arms, mother earth had managed to keep 
them from freezing. 

On this particular day it promised to be a 
fight for life with anything tender or green, for 
the atmosphere bit as if it had veritable teeth. 
But what does a group of hearty young girls 
care for the cold ! 

think this is fine weather !” exclaimed 
Effie Blair, throwing back her sturdy young 
shoulders, and breathing long, deep breaths of 
frozen sunshine. 

“So do I echoed Berta, though her cheeks 
and nose were fairly tingling under Jack Frost^s 
busy paint brush. 

“The young men said at dinner,’^ remarked 
Lucille, “if the weather had been the least bit 
colder, or begun a day earlier, they would have 
had a fine day’s skating to-day. Some of them 
went down to the river to try, but found it 
hardly safe, and came back disappointed.” 

“If it continues as cold as this until Monday, 
they will have all the skating they want,” said 
Effie, “for you remember, Berta, there was not 


180 The Ivy Vine. 

a single day of really good skating all last win- 
ter, so I am sure the faculty will give holiday 
rather than have the students miss it. Father 
says he considers skating the finest sport in the 
world, and he wishes we girls would learn, too, 
only it never has seemed just the thing here; 
none of the girls ever did. Do you skate Lu- 
cille 

Berta had turned to Lucille with a sudden 
fiash of expectation — a dim remembrance of 
having heard her mention it. 

^^Yes,’’ Lucille admitted, ^‘we all skated a 
good deal on our own ponds at home in the 
country.’’ 

^^Then you can teach us !” Berta and Effie 
both exclaimed, with enthusiasm ; ^fit would be 
ever so much nicer than having to get the boys 
to teach us.” 

Here Estelle and Agnes and Lena joined 
them, and they had soon reached Miss Morri- 
son’s door. A little hush of waiting fell over 
them, once within the old-fashioned library of 
^[ajor Morrison. They were not all talking at 
once, as they so often were, when Miss Edmonia 
came in. Perhaps because each had something 
special to tell. At any rate each face was 
brightly full of its own story. Her cordial 
greeting glanced from one to the other with 


The Ivy Vine. 


181 


pleasant inquiries for mothers, small sisters and 
brothers, etc., and then, for some reason hardly 
clear to herself, decided to begin at that part of 
the circle represented by Lena McBride. Most 
likely because Lena was evidently so ready to 
respond to her slightest glance of invitation. 

^^Let me be first!’’ she begged in her eager- 
ness, half rising to her feet, ^^because, whenever 
I have anything disagreeable to do, I always 
like to do it at once, and be done with it.” 

There was a mild outburst of amusement over 
this apology for her eagerness, and Miss 
Morrison smiling her assent, Lena went on: 
^‘^Mamma told me if I would do without butter 
for the two weeks before Thanksgiving, she 
would help me make a cake to carry to Selina 
Lindsay. So I did, and my own hen laid the 
eggs, and it was a splendid, great big cake, big 
enough for all the little Lindsays to have as 
much as they could eat. I wish you could have 
seen the kids crowding around to see what I had 
brought, and how they clapped their hands, and 
danced when they saw it was cake. I don’t 
reckon they have good things very often.” 

thought of Selina, too,” said little Agatha 
\Yallace. was sure, if she should happen to 
be out of work, nothing would make her gladder 
than to get some more orders. She always looks 


182 The Ivy Vine. 

so liappy when Ave take her any. I got her three 
orders for a dozen yards each, and she certainly 
did smile as if it was the nicest thing I could 
have done for her. Virgie went Avith me, and 
I am sure she Avill say so too.’’ 

^^Mother and I got up a little basket of 
Thanksgiving good things for Mrs. Lindsay,” 
Yirgie said ; ‘^aniong other things a jar of mince- 
meat, Avliich I am glad now Ave did not, for lack 
of time, make into pies, because it Avill keep bet- 
ter in the jars, and be more enjoyed Avhen Lena’s 
cake is gone.” 

Lena was evidently brimming over Avith some- 
thing else to tell, and making a violent effort to 
keep it to herself until all should have had a 
chance to tell their Thanksgiving experiences. 
But it so happened there Avas a break just here, 
and an opportune moment of silence Avas more 
than she could Avithstand, for she did love to be 
the first to tell a bit of neAvs. ^‘Do you all 
knoAv,” she exclaimed, in her own abrupt Avay, 
^hhat Selina is laying up money from her knit- 
ting? She must have a Avhole lot, too, for she 
told me yesterday she Avas going to help send her 
sister ^^annie to boarding school, so she can 
learn to be a teacher.” 

Over this ncAvs they all marvelled, and ex- 
claimed, and looked incredulous, some express- 


The Ivy Vine. 


183 


iiig pity for the little girl’s simplicity. But 
^Jiss Morrison quickly interposed. 

came by Mrs. Lindsay’s this morning,” she 
said, ^^and I expect I can throw some light on 
the dear child’s hopes. Mrs. Lindsay told me 
that her sister, who is the wife of a well-to-do 
farmer in Pennsylvania, had written she would 
pay the board and tuition of her namesake, 
Xannie, at a good school in Philadelphia for 
two years, taking care of her during the inter- 
vening holidays if they could ensure her suitable 
clothing and pay for her books. I was careful 
not to raise any undue hopes, but I have no 
doubt it can be done, and I have no doubt that 
Selina, with her wise little head, is thinking of 
the new clothes that will have to be, for you 
know Xannie is a pretty girl, and has always 
managed in some way to dress with remarkable 
taste and neatness.” 

The discussion of the subject lengthened the 
interlude to some minutes and Miss Morrison 
was just answering somebody’s ^‘We might help 
some in getting the clothes,” when the striking 
of the clock reminded them of the number of 
reports yet to be given in. Miss Edmonia gave 
a gentle little tap on her table, and said, twink- 
lingly, ^^That is to silence myself that somebody 
else may have a chance to talk.” 


• 184 


The Ivy Vine. 


Lucille’s time came next. happened to 
find out not long ago that Olive Baylor had a 
fondness for ferns kindred to my own, and made 
a small glass-covered fernery to sit on her table, 
in which the ferns and moss will keep green and 
fresh all winter.” 

^^Oh ! I know how much she will enjoy that,” 
said Estelle, warmly. went out to see Olive 
also; I generally do on the holidays, since — 
since she cannot come to see us. I took her a 
little picture I had painted myself, framed with 
pampas grass one of the students had brought 
me from his home. She likes anything new 
and odd for her room, as she expresses it, ^things 
that give her something to think about.’ ” 

Agnes had found her mission in the laundry 
woman’s family of little children, and Effie 
Blair had saved quilt-pieces for her old mammy. 
^^\nd we took them to her with a dinner hot 
from the table. She thinks nothing is so good 
as a plate helped at the table as for ourselves. 
She always asks, ^did you fix it on your own 
plate, honey ; den I know it’s good.’ ” 

Berta’s face had been slowly flushing, her 
eyes dropping, and her hands clasping and un- 
clasping each other restlessly as the thread of 
the story unwound itself toward her. A little 
silence fell after Effie and all were looking ex- 


The Ivy Vine. 


185 


pectantlv at Berta. Presently she threw hack 
her head bravely, and began. ^‘1 will have to 
tell a very ngly story about myself, to begin 
Avith,’’ she said, and with resolute, unsparing 
candor she told what Ave already knoAV of her 
impatience and ill-humor over the dress-maker^s 
inability to make her dress just Avhen she Avanted 
her to do it. /^It is very mortifying,’’ she Avent 
on, ^^for any one as old as I am to OAvn up to such 
a childish tantrum. I don’t knoAV Avhy mamma 
did not send me off to my room for solitary 
meditation, and let my dress go a-glimmering. 

Any how, it made my thankful deed seem so 
very small I felt it Avas hardly honest to let you 
all see it in any other proportions. Mrs. Beaver 
Avas really glad to agree to Effie’s proposition 
for us to go and help Avith the plain scAving in 
order to make it possible for her to get it done. 
Every moment of those three half days I re- 
pented of my selfish ill-humor, especially Tues- 
day, Avhen the poor Avoman actually fainted Avith 
my dress in her hands, from exhaustion and 
nervous strain, and I found out that, busy as 
she was, she had been sitting up at night with 
one of her sick girls Avho had no mother. 

'^Of course, I could not bear to haA^'e her 
touch the old dress again, but she insisted she 
AA^ould be as much disappointed as I if it were 


180 


The Ivy Vine. 


not finished, and all I could do in reparation 
was to go doAvn every afternoon this week to 
help her with other work. Mother says she 
doesn’t know a more lady-like woman, whatever 
her birthright may have been, and she certainly 
proves it when you see her among her sewing 
girls, so good and kind and considerate, she has 
made me feel meaner by contrast than I ever did 
before in my life.” 

Somehow Berta^s bit of experience and the 
candor of its telling touched a good many re- 
sponsive cords. Her own eyes had drooped 
again in sober humility. Agnes had a slight 
pucker of consciousness between her arching 
brows, while a look of surprise rested on Virgie’s 
face. Estelle was looking down thoughtfully, 
and Lena shook her head with an incredulous 
movement, as if wondering if Berta were not 
making much ado about nothing. Into the quiet 
moment of self-communing. Miss Edmonia’s 
voice fell like a silver bell, think,” she said 
softly, ^^no't Berta only, but all of us have cause 
to remember her experience.” She then added 
her own little mite to the general fund, and con- 
tinued, ^B^et us not only remember, but act. It 
is not what we have done that should remain 
with us, but what we have found out we may do. 
Even a pleasant word or a kind look in passing 
helps to lighten a burden sometimes.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


187 


“I wonder/’ said Lena, if Nannie Lindsay 
would not like to take the place of one of these 
sick girls, and make a little money to help on 
her school clothes !” If mamma thinks I can 
sew well enough, I would be glad to, to make a 
little money to help her — and myself,” ending 
with her characteristic giggle. 

That was voted a sensible suggestion, and the 
meeting closed in some soberness. 


... 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


A Few Surprises. 

“ Better to weave in the web of life 
A bright and golden filling.” 

riAIIE holiday for skating did not oome on 
JL the following Monday, as the girls had 
thought it might. On the contrary, the weather 
had moderated somewhat during Sunday, so that 
the ice on the river was deemed by no means 
safe for a holiday's burden of men and boys. 
But the gala day came at last, about two weeks 
later. The river was frozen as smooth and solid 
as if sent by some rapid transit from Iceland 
itself. The rumor had gone abroad that some 
of the young ladies Avere contemplating going on 
the ice, and, as this was a novelty, the students 
were out in full force, possibly anticipating a 
little fun at the expense of the fair beginners. 
It was true that our group of girls had made up 
their minds to share in this delightful sport, 
Avhich hitherto they had enjoyed only as specta- 
tors. Grfeme Gordon gladly offered his cousins, 
Berta and Effie, whatever instruction they 


The Ivy Vine. 


189 


needed, and Paul Baylor was to do the same for 
his cousin, Lena McBride. Both parties had 
come to invite the Grahams to join them, know- 
ing they had neither brother nor convenient 
cousin. 

wish Uncle Felix would go with us,’’ Es- 
telle murmured, in a dissatisfied tone, when the 
girls had departed with a doubtful acceptance of 
their cordial invitation. 

^^Oh ! I wonder if he wouldn’t !” exclaimed 
Agnes, brightening. 

^^Of course he will. Where is it you want to 
go, and when ?” 

It was Uncle Felix answering for himself, 
though they had not seen him approaching from 
the gate. 

^Wou know how to skate, don’t you. Uncle ?” 
they said, turning to him, coaxingly. 

should say I do, if I know anything, or — 
used to — ” a shadow crossing his good, kind face. 
He put his hand up over his eyes, hut only for 
the time he could draw thumb and first finger 
slowly across them, to meet at the bridge of his 
nose, then, ^^Do you know how, or do you want 
me to teach you ?” 

^AVe w^ant you to teach us. Hone of the girls 
have ever done it here.” 

He still seemed a little distrait. ^Ut has been 


190 


The Ivy Vine. 


tweiitj-five years since I had on skates, but’’ — 
recovering himself with a shake — ^^even if I 
have forgotten, no doiiht I will soon recatch the 
swing, once on the ice. Have pretty good skat- 
ing here 

^^The boys all say it is fine.’’ 

^^And how comes it you are giving an old man 
a chance to renew his youth with two pretty 
girls ? Will I have any fights on my hands ?” 

^^Ho, indeed, uncle,” exclaimed Agnes. ^Hf 
you do not have pity on us, we will have to be 
tagging on to the Blair girls or Lena McBride, 
who are going with their cousins. It will be ever 
so much nicer for us to have you.” 

^^All right, then, have your skates ready by — 
to-morrow morning, is it ? — and I will be on 
hand.” 

It was another glorious December day. The 
sun shone with all his might, but could only clear 
out the mists and infuse an invigorating tonic 
into the atmosphere. Beyond this his smiles met 
with but a cold reception, for this was not the 
day of his power. Where the river broadened 
out into the lowlands, as if for the express satis- 
faction of the skaters, some four or five hundred 
young men and boys from the college and pre- 
paratory school were moving about in geo- 
metrical lines and curves, filling the air with 


The Ivy Vine. 


191 


the hum of voices, the echo of merry laughter, 
and the musical skirr-r-r of their steel-clad 
feet. 

When the party including the seven girls ap- 
peared on the bank, scores of hats were lifted 
in recognition, and when Uncle Felix shook a 
string of skates in the air, there went up a rous- 
ing cheer from the whole crowd. 

Immediately, all who could claim any ac- 
quaintance, turned their toes in that direction, 
and cavalierly pressed their services. 

^^As there is such an abundant supply, you had 
best accept two beaux apiece,’^ Uncle Felix 
laughingly advised, ^^for I rather suspect it will 
take that many to initiate you into the mystery 
of standing on a thread of steel. 

But Agnes and Estelle clung to him, pleading, 
in anxious whispers, that he would teach them 
himself, and not leave them to disgrace them- 
selves with young men whom they barely knew. 
Of course Uncle Felix yielded, and the three 
slipped off together around the upper bend, and 
were forgotten for the space of an hour or two. 

Berta and Effie Blair also declined to impose 
on good nature, but Lena McBride followed the 
advice of Uncle Felix, and accepted the first 
offer of support on her other side, for, as she 
said, she was as awkward on skates as every- 


192 


The Ivy Vine. 

where else, and glad to get all the h-elp she could. 
Moreover, she did not mind being laughed at. 

Lucille and Virgie Wallace, though not daugh- 
ters either of the President or the most popular 
professor, had formed closer friendships among 
the students than those who were, and did not 
lack the most assiduous attentions. Mr. Brent, 
of Kentucky, came promptly to Lucille’s side, 
begging he might be permitted to do for her 
what she had so kindly done for him on the 
night of the ‘"Thanky-tea.” He put on her 
skates, fastening every buckle with special care; 
then, as he helped her up and on to the ice as 
carefully as if she had been a toddling child just 
learning the use of its own little feet, he said, 
^‘Kow, I can assure you, you will not need but 
one cavalier, and sure that’s myself. Uncle Felix 
to the contrary notwithstanding, if you will let 
me show you how we skate in Kentucky.” 

He grasped her left hand in a firm clasp, and 
was proceeding to slip his arm under her right 
arm in such manner as to afford very substantial 
support in case of lost balance. But Lucille 
drew back, laughing. With a graceful bow she 
held out her hand, and, touching his lightly, 
said, “I think this will be all I need.” With 
that, she drew him on with a sweeping motion, 
and they went flashing down the river, his pa- 


The Ivy Vine. 


193 


ti’onizing expression changing to one of unal- 
loyed admiration as she glided by his side— the 
very poetry of motion. 

“It was rather cruel to let me sell myself so 
cheaply. I didn’t dream you knew how, after 
what Uncle Felix said.” 

“Well, do you object to being pleasantly sur- 
prised once in a. while ?” 

As they swept around the broad curve of the 
river, Mr. Uutherford and Virgie following in 
their wake, a hearty shout of applause was 
wafted, after them. Quick as thought, they 
changed hands, wheeled face about, made a bow 
to the cheering crowd, and were off again like 
the wind, amid redoubled shouts and cheering. 

Later, when Lucille was resting on the bank, 
and several other acquaintances had come to 
claim the “next,” Brent spied Berta Blair trying 
her wings near the other shore. Mr. Gordon 
and Effie had skated off a short distance, teas- 
ingly pretending they were going to leave her. 
In the fear lest they might, she was seized with 
stage fright, forgot and lifted her foot, losing 
her motion and balance together, and began to 
totter and stretch out her hands beseechingly. 
Of course, her companions hastened back, laugh- 
ingly, to her assistance, but Mr. Brent was be- 
fore them, and his mere touch revived her cour- 
ts 


194 


The Ivy Vine. 


age. She raised her blue eyes to his, filled with 
a coy surprise, but also with an infinite relief. 
This was enough for the Kentuckian. ^^We can- 
not allow you to be selfish, Mr. Gordon,’’ he said, 
turning to him in his lordly way. ^G’ll take care 
of Miss Berta — by your leave ?” aside to her. 

With a tight grip of his strong, steady fore- 
finger, and his other hand under her elbow, she 
faltered no more, but sped over the ice, with an 
airy delight, like a veritable winged creature. 

^Tf you were not born on skates,” he ex- 
claimed, ^^you were certainly born for skating! 
Do you Virginia girls learn everything in the 
world as quickly and as perfectly as you do 
skating ? One doesn’t get a mite of fun or credit 
out of teaching you.” 

As he was so aggrieved over the lightness of 
his task, Berta was tempted to betray their secret 
and tell of the private lessons Lucille and Virgie 
Wallace had given the rest of them on a shallow 
pond, shut in between two hills, down back of 
their father’s orchard. 

Meanwhile Uncle Felix had done his part 
thoroughly. In some secluded nook, beyond the 
notice of a passer-by, he had drilled his two 
modest nieces until they not only knew how, but 
had gained the confidence of experience, and 
now, at last, he brought them out before the 


The Ivy Vine. 


195 


public, no longer clinging timorously to his arm, 
but skating gracefully beside him. Ever so 
many of the young men, realizing that the girls 
were more approachable under the chaperonage 
of Uncle Felix than under that of the ^^Em- 
press,’’ as Mrs. Graham was known among the 
students, pressed forward to improve their 
opportunity. Stanley Sinclair was particularly 
attracted by Agnes’ bright face, and he had 
hardly carried her off when Hugh Baylor came 
to claim Estelle. Uncle Felix, making dire com- 
plaints of the ingratitude of this world, espe- 
cially the nieces of it, dashed into the melee of 
boys, as if he were one of them, and wherever 
he went there was sure to be a good time. The 
girls all voted skating much more interesting on 
the ice than from the bank, and promised to try 
it again whenever the river permitted. 

That afternoon, when the ivy leaves gathered 
in weekly conclave, you might have thought skat- 
ing had superseded pin-cushions in its measure 
of importance. For, although a listener, step- 
ping in among them, might have found difficulty 
in untangling any single strand of conversation, 
yet each word caught by the ear would most 
likely bear some relation to the subject so freshly 
and enjoyably in their thoughts. With faces 
beaming and eyes shining, each was glad to tell 


106 


The Ivy Vine. 


her own pleasant experience, even if she were 
not quite sure of a listener among the busy 
tongues around her. 

As Miss Morrison appeared at the door, each 
paused and looked up in greeting, and, looking 
at her, the pause continued. Miss Morrison^s 
tell-tale face was more interesting reading to her 
young friends than a novel. 

This afternoon, as she returned their greeting 
and sat down in their midst, one was reminded 
of the changeful glories of a beautiful sunset; 
the ebb and tide of pink and crimson ; some- 
times like a delicate roseleaf dropped by a fairy 
on the soft, fair cheek ; sometimes a flood of 
crimson trespassing on the white throat and 
brow. The deep blue eyes, ^Svhite lidded as Avith 
mists of morning,’^ now looking out through a 
dimmer of brightness, as if discovering a 
deeper, sweeter, purer meaning in life than any- 
body else could know; then dropping behind 
the shadoAvs of their OAvn lashes, lest they prove 
too eloquent of the happy, hidden thoughts 
Avithin. 

She proceeded at once to the business of the 
hour, but evidently Avith mind preoccupied in 
unwonted way. She made several little absent- 
minded blunders, over Avhich she laughed at 
herself unmercifully. All the while the pink 


The Ivy Vine. 


197 


and crimson were chasing each other over her 
face, and the girls were watching it in curious 
wonder. 

^^Whenever Miss Edmonia’s color changes that 
way/’ thought Agnes, ^‘it is sure to mean some- 
thing. I wonder what she is going to tell us 
that will be a surprise !” 

Presently ]\liss Morrison, with a little catch 
of her hreatli, hegan, ‘^Idiere is one matter I sup- 
pose I ought to speak of — though I hardly 
know — T am afraid — you had better get some 
one to take my place — ” 

A hnrtfnl silence of surprise was filling her 
pauses with small encouragement, and her hands 
were clasping themselves over a letter she had 
dropped in her lap with a tight grip. It was 
hard, but she went on determinedly, am sure 
you will have no difficulty in finding some one 
who will give you as much, or more, real hel]> — ” 

At this 2X)int an impulsive outburst of protest- 
ing noes and whys interrupted her — forced her 
to lift her eyes, which had hitherto heen in 
hiding, while the crimson rushed to its flood- 
tide in cheeks, brow, ears and throat, as she mur- 
mured reproachfully, ^^Oh ! girls, I thought you 
would jielp me tell it — cannot you guess? — you 
might know nothing else could induce me to give 
you up — I’m going to be married — some of these 
days — ” 


198 


The Ivy Vine. 


In a moment the girls had dropped tlieir fancy 
work and were crowding around her, some, on 
their knees, some on the arms of her chair, the 
rest wherever they could get closest, and snch 
a deluge of questions as never was heard ponred 
in upon her. ^‘Who is it V’ Where is he from 
^^When is it to be ^‘How long have yon known 
him ?” ^^What is he like etc., etc., all in snch 
a jumbled heap she could do nothing bnt throw 
hack her head and laugh merrily, with the pret- 
tiest flush still on her cheek, and her eyes shin- 
ing and glinting and dodging, as it were, the en- 
counter with anybody’s else. 

In the first pause, she said demurely, her 
eyes still playing hide-and-seek, ^^I cannot tell 
yon any more just yet, for the reason that the 
wliens and wheres and hows are still so uncer- 
tain ; bnt yon shall know in good time. Mean- 
while, I must ask yon to keep my secret for me. 
I have told yon tlins early, because I wonld so 
mnch like to see a new leader in my place, and 
the work going right on before I leave. I think 
yon cannot make a mistake in yonr choice,” and 
she glanced significantly at Lucille Wallace. 

Bnt the girls were too full of eager interest 
in the revelation itself to transact anything so 
bnsiness-like as choosing a successor. They 
begged she wonld not hurry them, bnt just keep 
her own place as long as she could. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


The Pruning of the Ivy Vine. 

I F it was so intensely interesting to our girls 
to have a love affair in the church, imagine 
what it was to have one in their own small circle, 
and to have it all to themselves, too, for even if 
Miss Morrison had not bound them over to 
silence, they would have felt that her secret was 
a sacred trust until such time as she chose to 
reveal it to others. Nevertheless, this did not 
preclude much discussion of the subject within 
closed doors, as it were. They soon found, how- 
ever, that Miss Morrison had told all she had 
to tell for the present. Tempt her as they would, 
she fought shy of the subject, and adroitly 
turned the tide of their thoughts in some other 
direction whenever they began to question her. 

The truth was, she had revealed her secret 
while it was still new and strange to her- 
self, for a s^iecial purpose of good to them, as 
she had told them. It still rested on its same 
basis of simple fact, and for further develop- 
ments they must wait. But one Sunday night 
there was a strange young preacher in the pulpit. 


200 


The Ivy Vine. 


After church, Lena McBride whispered to 
Estelle, in a great state of excitement, that Miss 
Edmouia had waited for him, and she had seen 
them go off together. 

The whisper flew round among the girls long 
before Saturday. 

^^If it was he,’’ said Berta, think Miss 
Edmonia might have told us. We would have 
looked at him and listened to him so differently 
if w^e had known.” 

^B^erhaps,” said Virgie, ^^she preferred to 
hear what we thought of him without prejudice.” 

^AVell, what did you all think of him, any 
way ?” asked Lena. 

do not think he is quite good-looking 
enough for Miss Edmonia,” observed Berta. 

^Tt would take a fairy prince to he that !” ex- 
claimed Agnes, devoutly. 

^^Still, I think he has a fine face,” said Lu- 
cille ; ^^something better than mere good looks.” 

think so, too,” assented Effle; ^^and I im- 
agine it is a face that will grow on you.” 

heard papa say,” continued Agnes, ^die 
thought it was an uncommonly good sermon for 
a young man just out of the seminary.” 

^A^ou should tell Miss Edmonia that,” com- 
mented Lucille. 

^Tf he were my sweetheart I would call that 


The Ivy Vine. 


201 


rather tame praise/’ and Berta tossed her head 
proudly. would not marry a preacher at all 
if I could not find one who was a star, even 
while he was at the seminary !” 

have no idea of marrying a preacher,” said 
Agnes. “I am not good enough, by a great deal. 
But if I were going to, I don’t believe I should 
choose one who was such a genius in his youth. 
He would be sure to grow conceited, and that 
would spoil everything else.” 

^Hncle Felix said,” quoth Estelle, ^^the 
preacher was certainly a young man of great 
promise. He believed he had already done some 
good work in the mountains during his vaca- 
tions.” 

^^That would certainly please Miss Edmonia,” 
said Lucille. At that moment, the folding-door 
slowly moved back, and Miss Morrison, smiling 
and blushing, appeared. 

^^Oh ! Miss Edmonia, did you hear us talking 
about you?” Estelle looked up in half-scared 
retrospection. 

^^Yes, while waiting in the parlor for Mrs. 
Wallace to be called, I heard my name, and, 
recognizing the familiar voices, came right in, 
lest I should hear something you would rather 
I did not.” 

^Wou need not be afraid to hear anything 


202 


The Ivv Vine. 


we would say of you!’’ exclaimed Lena, inge- 
niously. 

hope not, dear,” smiling affectionately at 
her. ^‘In fact, I am never afraid of what any- 
body may say to my face, and do not in the least 
mind what may be said out of sight ; provided, 
if bad, I never hear of it, because, good, bad or 
indifferent, it cannot really hurt me. But to 
hear what is not intended to be heard, though 
sometimes pleasant” — ^here she smiled around 
the circle, until the girls blushed in conscious 
relief — ^^is often an injustice both to speaker 
and listener.” 

The moment’s silence was abruptly broken 
by Lena. ^^Well, anyhow, tell us. Miss Ed- 
monia, was it your preacher who preached for 
us last Sunday ?” 

A reproachful ^^Oh !” escaped several lips, 
and those who did not speak it, looked it, as a 
blush too vivid for comfort swept into Miss Mor- 
rison’s face, and she dropped her eyes with a 
foolish little laugh. Almost instantly recover- 
ing herself, she said, demurely, suppose I 
might as well acknowledge I have promised to 
try to be content to listen to that same young 
preacher for the rest of my life. Don’t you 
think he will do pretty well for a constancy ?” 

With a gay laugh, they owned the tables 


The Ivy Vine. 


203 


turned. ^^One thing certain/’ said Berta, sau- 
cil}^, ^‘lie will have to be very, very good, and very, 
very smart, or we will not let him have you.” 

For only answer Miss Morrison gave a satis- 
fied little shake of the head, and arched her 
brows, as much as to say, ^‘Leave us to settle 
that question,” at which the girls laughed glee- 
fully. Then Mrs. Wallace came in, for it was 
at her house that the girls had gathered, and 
Miss Morrison turned to her host with a touch 
of her finger to her lip, which the girls did not 
fail to understand and enjoy. 

Although thus admitting the girls to her con- 
fidence, there was always a sweet reserve which 
limited the personal touch of the ^fioo many” 
or the ^^careless tongue” from which every true 
woman instinctively shrinks under the circum- 
stances. 

Sending Xannie Lindsay off to school with 
a creditable outfit by the first of February was 
almost equal to another wedding in the general 
interest excited. Little Selina had always had 
the most extravagant admiration for her older, 
prettier sister, and was ambitious for her to be 
as well dressed as any girl at the school. She 
was fully intent upon doing it all herself, but 
Miss Morrison begged to contribute a pretty 
dress. Uncle Felix slipped into Estelle’s pocket 


204 


The Ivy Vine. 


one day a bundle of bank-notes labeled, ^Tor 
Xannie Lindsay’s cloak,” and the Wallaces 
again came to the rescue with hats, one for best, 
and one for rainy days. For the rest, the most 
the girls could do was to keep Selina’s eager 
little fingers constantly supplied with work. 
Sometimes they would buy a lot of edging, and 
sneak it back into her basket without her know- 
ledge, to be sold over again. So the young lady 
finally went off, as well provided for as possible, 
leaving Selina proud and happy. Xannie wrote 
hack that she had stood a good examination, and 
intended to study hard and do them all credit. 
The little sister at home was so elated over this 
letter she wanted everybody to read it. 

After this things dropped back into their old, 
quiet routine for awhile. Miss Morrison made 
several futile efforts to settle the matter of her 
successor, in order, as she said, that there might 
be no break in their meetings and no risk of an 
interregnum. But, like most young people, her. 
little flock persisted in leaving the future to take 
care of itself, at least until it was more evidently 
imminent. 

^LVny way,” said Berta, on one of these occa- 
sions, most likely it will not affect us, as father 
and mother are talking of sending us away from 
home to school next fall.” 




The Ivy Vine. 


205 


^^Wliere questioned Agnes, a bit enviously. 

^^To Miss Hampton’s, in Staunton. Mother 
knew her as a girl, and has always said she 
wanted us, if possible, to have two or three years 
with her.” 

Still, I do not think you ought to lose all 
interest in the Ivy Vine, if you do go away,” 
said Estelle, in an aggrieved tone, adding, with 
a sigh, ^AVith you and Effie gone, and Miss Ed- 
nionia married, I am afraid the Ivy Vine will 
die. There’ll be no need to elect a new 
leader.” 

^^That’s true,” said Effie, soberly. ^Tt will 
make a pretty big break in our little circle. We 
certainly must try to keep in touch with the 
work, for of course we will want to be in it when 
we come home. We can at least send our con- 
tributions, and though it will be so hard on those 
of you who are left, I do hope you will not let 
it die. There is our mountain work, you know ; 
we must keep up the expenses some way, and you 
may be sure Berta and I will do what we can to 
help.” 

Effie had waxed very earnest in her plea for 
the Ivy Vine, and Estelle felt every word she 
said, but all the more she sighed at thought of 
the future, and sighed again after the Blairs 
had left them. f . 


206 


The Ivy Vine. 


Agnes sighed also. Only a girl’s half sigh, 
it is true, but it was followed by, wish I were 
going off to school, too.” 

Estelle glanced quickly np at her sister in sur- 
prise, all thought of distress over the Ivy Vine 
forgotten for the time. To herself it would 
never occur to wish to leave home. She felt as if 
she could not be happy for a day anywhere else 
than in Bridgeton. As for school, while she had 
always conscientiously done her best in every 
class, she could not but acknowledge it was 
duty rather than pleasure. Hot so with Agnes. 
She had a genuine delight in acquiring know- 
ledge, made warm friends of all her teachers, 
and was popular with her school-mates. The 
ambition for a higher education than their own 
little town could afford had often crept unbidden 
into her mind, though it had never gone beyond 
that half-sigh, nor even that in the presence of 
any one at home. 

^A^et, if she wants it so much, it is a pity for 
her not to get it,” was Estelle’s brooding thought 
as soon as she knew, and as they walked home 
silently together Estelle was saying to herself, 
don’t see why papa cannot let her go now in 
place of Janet, if she will only ask him !” 

As they entered the house the girls instinc- 
tively felt a shadow fall over them. The mur- 


The Ivy Vine. 


207 


mur of low voices — that of their father and 
mother — was drawing them on to the 
library. 

‘^You see, we go beyond our income every 
year now. The expenses of Janet’s education 
have been heavy, and while, as you know, I am 
more than glad former to have had it, yet I do 
not feel we have the right to give her what we 
can hardly call our o^vn, for a mere pleasure 
trip.” 

This was what they heard their father say, 
and turned, with heavy hearts, to go upstairs, 
that they might not hear their mother’s possibly 
excited argument. At any rate, Agnes’ ambition 
and Estelle’s hopes for her were nipped in the 
bud. Agnes sighed no more. A wholesome girl 
is not apt to waste sighs on an impossibility. 
As for Estelle, who did not want it for herself, 
somehow she could not let the matter rest. She 
kept saying to herself over and over again, ^Tt 
certainly is a pity for Agnes not to have the 
education, if she wants it.” 

Finally, Estelle said it aloud to Uncle Felix, 
telling him, at the same time, the circumstances 
under which Agnes had inadvertently allowed 
her ambition to crop out. 

Uncle Felix took the matter seriously, said it 
would be a considerable item, but added, in that 


208 


The Ivy Vine. 


hopeful way of his, ^^No doubt there will be 
some way to manage it; if not this year, next, 
and, fortunately, you are both young enough to 
wait.’’ 

^^Oh ! but I do not want to go — only Agnes,” 
Estelle hastened to assure him. 

^^And why not you — the oldest ought to go, 
if only one?” He bent his eyes keenly doum 
to hers. 

^^Because I do not particularly love to study ; 
I was never bright at my books as Agnes is,” 
she acknowledged, in simple candor. ^^Besides, 
it would never do for both of us to go away and 
leave papa and mamma at the same time, don’t 
you think ?” 

^^And you will be content to let Agnes get 
ahead of you ?” 

^^Yes, indeed ; she is that, any way, because 
she really loves to study.” 

^^And is there no branch of study that tempts 
you — music — -drawing — ?” 

^^Oh ! I would dearly love to take drawing 
and painting from some one who could teach 
me all about it,” she exclaimed, impulsively; 
^^but, then, it’s no matter, anyhow,” she added 
almost immediately. 

Uncle Eelix patted her cheek, and called her 
a sweet, unselfish little girl, and there the mat- 


The Ivy Vine. 


209 


ter ended for tlie time. But, somehow, Uncle 
Felix always managed to accomplish whatever 
he set his mind on, and the result was, as soon 
as it was ])ositively decided for Berta and Ethe 
Blair to go in the fall. Uncle Felix annonnced 
that Agnes was to go with them. At the same 
time, he confided to Estelle that a very fine 
art teacher was coming down from Staunton to 
make up a class in Bridgeton for the next ses- 
sion, and he had given her name as first pupil. 

It was a busy set of girls that spring, and 
they did not begin to realize the breaking up of 
tlieir circle until after Miss Morrison’s quiet 
wedding. 

Janet came home somewhat discontented at 
first over not getting her trip to Niagara with 
the graduating class, but was in a measui'e recon- 
ciled to find she was in time for the college com- 
mencement. 

^^And yon are really going away next year, 
and will not even be here to see me graduate ?” 
Mr. Brent said to Berta the last night of com- 
mencement. 

fear it is even so,” returned Berta, allow- 
ing her tone to ex]>ress a note of regret, ^^for the 
sessions close about the same time, and we will 
have to remain for examinations for the next 
term.” 


14 


210 The Ivy Vine. 

I had only known, I might have graduated 
this year.” 

^^ITow so?” 

^^By taking two years^ course in one.” 

^^Why did you not do it, anyway, if you 
could ?” 

don’t know; there was no hurry; I was 
having a very good time since the President’s 
family have made friends with me, and I 
thought T was about as well off in Bridgeton as 
anwhere else.” 

^^Tlien, perhaps, you are going to remain a 
little while? We are always so glad when some 
of the students do,” Berta said, with a coy note 
of invitation in her voice. 

^^Unfortunately, my respected sire commands 
mv immediate presence, and T will be obliged 
to leave Sunday night.” 

^^Sunday !” repeated Berta, with a look of in- 
credulous disapproval. 

^Wes, Monday is his limit.” 

^^Then, why not go Saturday ?” 

^^And miss my engagement with you Sunday 
night! hfotT!’’ 

^^Rather than it should lead you to travel on 
the Sabbath,” she said, in a low, uncompromis- 
ing tone, ^hhe engagement is already cancelled.” 

^Wou don’t mean it ?” But he could not look 


The Ivy Vine. 


211 


ill her face and not know she did mean it. And 
all the persuasive argument^ of his silver tongue 
could not move her. 

^^N^o doubt you are right/’ he acquiesced at 
last, a little stiffly. ^^And, as you wish it, I shall 
cx^rtainly consider the engagement off, and take 
your advice.” 

Tie watched in vain for the slightest shadow 
of relenting in the girl face before him. That 
was the last Berta saw of him for two years. 


CHAPTEK XX. 


Ekesii Growth of the Ivy Yixe. 

L ike a brood of newly-weaned chickens, the 
Ivy leaves met on the first Saturday of 
September, and huddled together around Lucille 
AVallace, as if trying to warm away the lonesome 
feeling in the sunshine of her smile. It was in 
]\rrs. AA^allace’s cosy parlor into which the after- 
noon sun was streaming with an abundance of 
good cheer, but the fact was nevertheless patent, 
they were making a new beginning with most 
of the enthusiasm left out. And without enthu- 
siasm, Emerson says, ^^Xothing great was ever 
accomplished.’’ 

Berta and Effie had ahvays been the leading 
spirits among them. Agnes also had been the 
more enthusiastic of the Graham sisters, and 
then Miss Morrison had, been such a steady and 
steadying helm to them in the work they had 
undertaken. After her marriage, they felt com- 
pletely at sea as she had feared they might when 
she so earnestly urged them to choose her succes- 
sor, while she could still be there to help her in 
the start. It was perhaps hardest of all on 


The Ivy Vine. 


213 


Lucille. When it was proposed she should take 
Miss ^lorrison’s place she begged they would 
wait and see if they could not find some one older 
and more experienced. Hence they had worked 
along in a kind of headless way for a while, 
unable to settle on any one else. Then in des- 
peration, they determined to disband for the 
summer. Lucille had finally agreed to accept 
the honor they wished to confer upon her, 
though with many misgivings. 

As a singular coincidence, too, they had gone 
hack to first principles in numbers as in every- 
thing else. Virgie and little Agatha Wallace, 
Estelle Graham and Lena McBride — Estelle 
the only one who had been • in at the be- 
ginning. 

As for the fibre of the concern, Virgie and 
Agatha were ahvays earnest workers in whatever 
they did at all, and little Agatha peculiarly full 
of a sweet, artless sentimentality. But then, 
they had neither of them been a part of the origi- 
nal problem. Having come in by the method of 
addition, they had assumed a personal, rather 
than an aggregate responsibility. Besides, the 
home problems Avere often so serious and dis- 
tracting they could not feel, as the four young 
fotmdei‘s, that hardly anything Avas more im- 
portant than their lA^y Vine. Lena McBride 


214 


The Ivy Vine. 


was much in the same category. I^obody had 
received greater benefit from the general influ- 
ence of the meetings and the work itself than 
Lena. Everybody noticed it. And nobody was 
more loyally devoted to it than she. Yet, Lena 
was not born a leader, and if responsibility 
should ever come her way, it would have to come 
without her seeking — as a clear case of provi- 
dential indication. Then, she would take it up, 
and do her best. 

The burdened sigh which followed Estelle’s 
glance around the quadrangular group, though 
smothered in its inception, showed where the 
weight was pressing. This little band was a 
child of her own brain, for she had been the 
first to propose it; and while she had left the 
leadership, and in a measure the responsibility, 
to others as long as she could, she had carried it 
as a whole continually on her heart, and now 
it seemed as if every prop had been removed to 
let the whole burden down upon her shrinking 
shoulders. 

Lena McBride, who abhorred a vacuum in 
conversation, broke into the first embarrassed 
pause with, ^T’m afraid we are going to have an 
awfully dull time this winter !” 

Estelle, as sensitive for others as for herself, 
gave a quick look at the pink flush on Lucille’s 


The Ivy Vine. 


215 


face, and turning to Lena said, with an un- 
wonted ring of decision, ‘‘I expect it will be 
whatever we make it. I don’t suppose there is 
any reason why we four should not accomplish 
as much, and have as good a time as the first 
four, especially as we still have them for con- 
tributing members.” 

^‘Yes, and perhaps we can persuade the absent 
girls to be corresponding members as well — to 
send us new, helpful ideas occasionally,” Lu- 
cille added, laying a gratified hand on Estelle’s, 
and speaking in a braver tone already. 

‘‘If we could only have Olive to meet with 
us,” Estelle said with a sigh. 

There was a little snap of inspiration in Lu- 
cille’s gentle brown eyes. “Why not ? I wonder 
if we mightn’t go out and meet with her some- 
times ? You know she sits up nearly all day 
now, and it Avould be only a pleasant walk for 
us probably for some time yet.” 

d'hey resolved that Lucille and Estelle should 
go out, and feel the way, and arrange for the 
next meeting there if agreeable. 

ddiey then turned their attention to the press- 
ing business of raising money for the Double 
^[ountain School. 

A parting donation from Miss Morrison, and 
from the two young men, Messrs. Forsythe and 


216 


The Ivy Vine. 


Tiutlierford, who had been interested in the 
work, and who had now graduated and gone, 
had tided them over the summer. The regular 
contribution of five cents a week from their 
present number could not be counted on for 
much, but with those of other church members 
might suffice to pay for the horses to carry the 
young men out. Lesson papers had been pro- 
vided for until January, but there were always a 
number of small contingent expenses, and then 
the Thanksgiving treat, and Christmas were 
before them. 

^^Why cannot we have a fair as the grown 
people do every year asked Estelle, her zeal 
thoroughly enkindled by the necessities of the 
case. 

^^Oh ! yes,’’ said. Yirgie, ^^and we might, in 
addition to our little fancy articles, have ice- 
cream and cake. I expect that would be more 
profitable than anything else.” 

^^\nd then,” suggested Lena, ^fif we have it 
just before (Jiristmas, folks can buy some of 
their Christmas gifts of us instead of making 
them.” 

^^But the ladies generally have theirs at that 
time, with the same object, do they not?” de- 
precated Lucille. ‘‘And what will they think 
of our impertinent rivalry!” 


The Ivy Vine. 


217 


continued Estelle, reverting inexpli- 
cably to her usual shyness, expect we had bet- 
ter be careful also to make different kinds of 
things.’’ She was thinking for the first time 
of her mother’s zealous interest in the accus- 
tomed annual fair, and of her probable criti- 
cism of the girls proposed plans. 

A feeling of being checkmated fell over the 
little group for a moment. But before it had 
time to work discouragement, Lena spoke again, 
^^Mdiy cannot we ask the grown folks to let us 
have a table at their fair?” 

An exclamation of relief greeted her happy 
thought, and the remainder of the time was de- 
voted to planning confidently on this basis. 

As Estelle cut across the narrow back street, 
the nearest way from the Wallaces to her own 
home, whom should she meet but Mrs. Schmidt. 

have just been to your house to see you; 
there’s a little gal from Double Mountain come 
to my house this morning. She says her name 
is Marth’El’n, and she goes to the Double Moun- 
tain Sunday-school.” 

Estelle readily recalled the little Martha 
Ellen, whose bright eyes had smiled up at them 
from behind her mother’s elbow at the house to 
which she had gone with Effie Brent on their 
pioneering expedition. 


218 


The Ivy Vine. 


‘‘What does she want, and how did she hap- 
pen to come to yon asked Estelle. 

Mrs. Schmidt giggded with a vague feeling of 
importance. “Well, as for that, ’taint likely 
she knows one house from another. There was 
two or three of ’em, with popcorn and things to 
sell, and this little gal happened to stop at our 
house while the others went on to the next. 
The child looked awful tired, so I ses, ‘Pretty 
long walk from the Mountain, ain’t it?’ She 
said, ‘Yes, but I wouldn’t a-minded if ’twan’t 
for maw and paw bein’ sick, and nobody to work 
’cept me.’ ‘Yobody to work ?’ ses I ; ‘what’s the 
matter with your maw and paw ?’ ‘They’se both 
of ’em down with fever,’ ses she. She ses she 
didn’t sleep none hardly last night for jumpin’ 
up and doAvn to give ’em Avater, biit ’loAved she 
Avas ’bliged to come to tOAvn to make some money, 
and buy colfee, ’cause that Avas all they seemed 
to Avant.” 

A soft sigh escaped Estelle under pressure of 
this new responsibility. She felt so helpless to 
face it. Why should* everything be coming 
upon her— -the one least capable of doing and 
saying the right thing! 

“Is the little girl still at your house ?” Estelle 
asked vaguely. 

“Yes, I gave her some bread and milk, and 


219 


The Ivy Vine. 

told her to lie do^vn, and take a nap while I went 
out a bit. The child was that sleepy and tired 
she was oft before I could more than get her to 
the bed.’’ 

Estelle stood silently ruminating. A picture 
came to her mind from one of her old child- 
hood’s geographies, of old Atlas with the weight 
of the world on his back. She had always pitied 
the old fellow, strong as he looked. Kow it 
seemed as if his burden had slipped over on her 
shoulders. If Miss Edmonia were only here, 
how simple it would be to go to her, and let her 
decide what Avas best to do. Somehow, Lucille, 
lovely as she was, still seemed a kind of stranger 
in the work. How could she know about the 
Double Mountain people from a single visit 
among them. Berta and Effie would have sought 
counsel with their mother, Avho was as much in- 
terested in the mountain Avork as they Avere. 
“I Avish mother was!” Estelle blushed for the 
disloyalty of her thought, nevertheless she could 
not go to her mother. ^^And papa is too busy to 
be bothered — Uncle Felix?” 

Mrs. Schmidt Avas beginning tO' fear she had 
come to the Avrong person, and said apologeti- 
cally, Avas kinder ’fraid the child Avould be 
doAvn Avith fever herself if something Avasn’t 
done.” 


220 


The Tv'll Vine. 


‘‘Yes, I’m afraid sO' too !” Estelle came slowly 
back to herself and to her companion. ^^I’ll tell 
you what, you keep the child with you until I 
see what can be done.” 

^‘If I had any way to get out there, I’d let the 
child stay in town a bit and rest, and I’d go and 
nurse the father and mother,” the kind-hearted 
creature said modestly. “I reckon Mr. Schmidt 
could get along without me for awhile, like he 
did before.” 

It was some relief to the tension of the occa- 
sion when elennie Schmidt indulged in her nat- 
ural, good-natured giggle, and with a more con- 
fident step Estelle turned about, and started 
toward her uncle’s store. 


CHAPTEK XXI. 


Ti[e Ivy Leaves Still Busy. 

O XCE seated beside Uncle Felix, in his little 
back room, Estelle wondered why she had 
ever troubled herself over the matter at all. 
Everything seemed so simple and easy now. He 
asked her a good many questions, had her tell 
him all that Mrs. Schmidt had told her, and all 
she herself knew of the family of little Martha 
Ellen, then said, with an air of satisfied de- 
cision, ‘‘1 think Airs. Schmidt’s plan a very good 
one. The best thing you girls can do is to 
accept her proposition to go out and nurse the 
sick, while the little girl stays in town to do her 
work as far as she can, which will no doubt be 
rest and recreation to her, for Mr. Schmidt 
will be as good and kind to her as if she were his 
own child. However, as Airs. Schmidt will be 
carrying on the work of the Ivy Vine at some 
expense to herself, I think she ought to be paid 
something for the job.” With that, he laid a 
dollar in Estelle’s hand as a ^^nest-egg,” and 
giving her a loving kiss, went back to his place 
in the store, while Estelle, with a lighter heart. 


222 


The Ivy Vine. 


went to talk it over with Lucille, and call an 
extra meeting of the girls that very evening, 
ddiey were fortunate in meeting Graeme Gordon 
at the door, who volunteered to drive Mrs. 
Schmidt out that afternoon instead of waiting 
for morning, and thus the plan was promptly 
inaugurated. Only after the details were all 
settled did they begin to realize that here was a 
new demand upon their exchequer. It was 
larger, too, than their utmost dreams, for the 
fever became almost epidemic for some weeks 
that fall. Nevertheless, they determined to meet 
it bravely, and let it be only a spur in the work 
of getting up their exhibit for the ladies’ fair. 
Besides, in meeting this pressing emergency, so 
far beyond their regular income they found 
many a place for glad self-denial never thought 
of before. Mrs. Schmidt was kept at her post 
as long as she was needed, and proved herself 
quite a skillful sick nurse. Many a time there- 
after she was called upon for town service in the 
same line, for there had occasionally been great 
need of some one in that capacity, and this small 
addition to her income did not come amiss, you 
may be sure. 

Mrs. Schmidt never lost her interest in 
Double Mountain people. She and her husband 
frequently went out with the students to help 


The Ivy Vine. 


223 


with the singing. Eventnally, each took a class, 
and became permanently a part of the regular 
force. The little Martha Ellen, when released 
from duty at Mr. Schmidt^s, got her parents’ 
consent to go and live with Mrs. McBride as 
general help about the house. Here she learned 
many nsefnl lessons in domestic economy and 
household comfort, and some in reading, writing 
and arithmetic from Lena in her leisure 
hours. 

Meanwhile, the girls were busy as bees getting 
ready for the fair. Tn the conference between 
the girls and their elders, in which the coalition 
had been formed, it had been agreed to set a 
time earlier by a month than had been the pre- 
vious custom, bringing it just before Thanks- 
giving, instead of nearer to Christmas. In the 
matter of decoration, also, the young people 
were given full license. Janet Faulkner, who 
had held herself rather aloof from the work up 
to this time, on the plea of the long strain and 
restraints of school life, found full scope for 
her talents on this occasion, and threw herself 
very heartily into it, proposing and carrying out 
a very pretty design in a flower table. It in- 
volved more than one afternoon trip to the woods 
for ferns, mosses, etc., in which some or all the 
girls accompanied her, and the young men of 


224 


The Ivy Vine. 


their acquaintance who volunteered were per- 
mitted to make themselves eminently useful. 

The white, bare walls of the lecture-room were 
festooned with cedar and ivy, and brightened 
with paper flowers of home manufacture. All 
the tables were tastefully draped and arranged, 
the old staid simplicity of the matrons giving 
place to the more verdant taste of youth. 

Janet’s floAver table was the cynosure of all 
admirers. On a small stand she had bewitched 
into existence a most perfect little bit of tropical 
scenery. A limpid lake — alias a bowl of water 
— with moss-draped border, great tall mountain 
ferns over-arching and surrounding it — ^mimic 
tree ferns. In the miniature moss-green ave- 
nues between two rows of fringy shade strayed 
a couple of doll lovers, w'hile immediately behind 
them, in the grass or moss, appeared ominously 
the glistening eyes of a snake. On the margin 
of the lake a green toy frog, with glossy, pro- 
tuberant eyes, was in the act of leaping into the 
water ; one could almost hear his croak. On the 
still, shadowed bosom of the little lake sailed a 
tiny bark canoe, carrying two more minute 
lovers, drifting they cared not whither. The 
whole made such a pretty picture one did not 
feel disposed to challenge the prospective, how- 
ever imperfect. Overhead hung a vine en- 


The Ivy Vine. 


225 


wreatlied tablet, “The Last Lose of Summer/’ 
and underneath, a bowl full of buds gathered 
wherever a straggler had escaped the early 
frosts and eked out from the various kindly 
private conservatories of the town, arranged into 
charming little boutonieres for the students to 
buy. One encouraging feature of college town 
life is that the students are always ready to 
patronize whatever conies along, especially if 
solicited to do so by pretty girls. Quite a num- 
ber of them usually strayed- into the annual fair, 
and supplied themselves with needle-books, 
book-marks, handkerchief-bags, etc. i^ow that 
ice-cream and cake, served by the daintiest 
girlies in town, were added to its attractions, 
every student avIio was so fortunate as to have 
any of his allowance left would be sure to be 
on hand. All our old friends are there, Brent, 
(^mes, the Sinclair brotliers, Duncan McCann, 
and others, and were often found hovering like 
bees around the flower-table. Janet was un- 
usually vivacious, and kept up a lively move- 
ment of wit and sales. Quiet, sober Mr. Mc- 
Cann stood at her elbow most of the evening in 
devout admiration of her cleverness. 

The fair proved a phenomenal success, this 
year. The girls had a neat little fund for their 
money-box, and the mothers could yet hold no 
15 


226 The Ivy Vine. 

grudge, for they also had done better than 
usual. 

Janet^s interest proved rather ephemeral, it 
is true, still they knew they could depend on 
her when an entertainment of any kind was on 
hand, or any extraordinary effort needed, and 
this was by no means to be despised. 

During the winter, Annie Wallace and Mil- 
dred Davis, the young daughter of one of the 
professors, were admitted as new members. 
Dims the Ivy Vine - began to grow again, and 
always found plenty to do. 


CHAPTER XXIL 


A Thorn Among the Ivy Leaves. 

T he experiment of carrying the meetings 
ont to Olive Baylor was a happy thought. 
Her father and brothers, watching jealously, 
could not detect any had effects, but rather the 
contrary, and were so glad to have her enjoy the 
company of her friends, and this added interest 
in life that they arranged to drive in for the 
girls every Saturday. Thus there had been only 
a few times when they had to meet away from 
her. 

Olive had been accustomed, from her mother- 
less childhood, to the responsibility of deciding 
things, hence it was an inexpressible relief to 
Estelle to have her judgment to lean on. It 
took all the burden out of everything; for 
Estelle still felt that it was in a measure on 
her, though Lucille had taken hold most effi- 
ciently during the fever epidemic and the fair. 
It was only in cases where a more personal local 
knowledge seemed needful that she showed any 
disposition t« shirk the duty of leadership. 
Even when she did, it was in such a sweet, defer- 


228 


The Ivy Vine. 


ential spirit towards Estelle or Olive or both, for 
they generally went together when either one 
was pressed to the front, that, to Estelle, at least, 
who needed it most, it proved a. most beneficial 
process of development. 

One of Lucille’s most attractive traits of 
character was her perfect candor of action and 
speech, and its usual concomitant, taking for 
granted others were equally so. Yet toward the 
latter part of the winter, Estelle’s sensitive na- 
ture detected an intangible reserve creeping into 
her manner, especially when they met with 
Olive. 

The drive out would sometimes be waived 
aside as impracticable, when neither Hugh nor 
any one else could see any reason for it. One 
Saturday she positively declined to venture, 
vowing she would not try it again until spring. 
The next week, though a swiftly vanishing snow 
had made the roads much worse than before. 
Dr. Baylor, by some means, succeeded in over- 
coming her scruples, and took them all out in 
the carriage. He seemed to be very much elated 
over his coliquest, and was in an unusually jovial 
mood all the way out, and insisted upon having 
Lucille sit in front with him, that she might 
see for herself how little there w^s to be afraid 
of. Once Estelle heard him say, ^^So you could 


The Ivy Vine. 


229 


not trust Hugh to drive you, hey ! pretty hard 
on a young fellow, Miss Lucille!’’ He turned 
and bent toward her until her face was like a 
rich carnation, then threw back his head, and 
laughed with what seemed to Estelle rather cruel 
enjoyment. His covert raillery evidently em- 
barrassed Lucille as much as it puzzled Es- 
telle. 

When they drove up to the door, Paul and 
Elmer were there to meet them, hut not Hugh. 
He had ridden into towm on business, Olive said, 
and they did not see him at all. This was the 
last time they all met there for a good while. 
Lucille had her way thereafter. However new 
and strange and unaccountable her timidity 
about driving, it was such evident discomfort 
to her there was nothing to do but to yield to 
it. As the roads did soon after become impas- 
sable for carriages, the matter passed out of 
mind. 

One Wednesday night, as Estelle was about 
to join Lucille for the walk home, Hugh stepped 
between, and, slipping her hand into his arm, 
walked oif with her. They were so close at the 
moment Estelle could not help hearing his 
greeting, hope there is nothing to prevent my 
walking home with you this time, because if 
there is, I am afraid — I would have to disre- 


230 


The Ivy Vine. 


gard it. You have kept me on starvation rations 
lately — I cannot stand it any longer.’’ 

Estelle Avondered Avliat lie could possibly 
meaiij but sbe only dropped back with tbe other 
girls, and kept her Avonderings to herself. Sbe 
imagined Hugh looked troubled tbe next time 
sbe saAv him. Lucille certainly did ; her usual 
sweet serenity gaA^e place to a vague abstraction, 
alternating Avitli an expression of anxious per- 
plexity, and Estelle felt dreadfully sorry for 
both of them Avitbout knoAving any cause. With 
the instinct of a girl, sbe scented a loA^e affair. 
But then, if they Avere in love Avitb each other, 
Avbat Avas there to be troubled about ? Why did 
they not just go on and be happy ? Another 
night he Avas evidently waiting for Lucille again, 
Avben, to his chagrin, he saAv her at tbe other 
door Avitb one of the students. He turned aAvay 
rather disconsolately, and soon after joined Es- 
telle. He hardly pretended to talk, and Estelle 
Avas too keenly sympathetic in his disappoint- 
ment to be able to do so at first. The Avorst of 
it Avas they Avere Avalking a great part of the 
Avay, a feAv steps behind the other couple. 

Estelle troubled her soul greatly trying to 
think of some Avay to relieve him of this small 
torture, yet knew it Avas not at all Avorth Avhile 
to propose going another Avay; absence from 


The Ivy Vme. 


231 


sight is no relief to jealousy, when a rival is 
where you would like to be. Hence they silently 
followed the other pair, who were apparently 
totally oblivious of them. They watched them 
go in, and close the door after them, then Hugh’s 
step became sharply punctuated. 

Presently he said, ^^Miss Estelle, I feel like a 
mean dog. I would not thus have used anybody 
else in the world. Such is human friendship, 
even when we most prize the friend.” 

am glad you know you can always depend 
on mine,” was Estelle’s cordial response. 

There was a little grateful pressure in the 
good-bye hand-clasp, as he left her at the door, 
and Estelle did not see him again for some 
weeks. 

In the course of time winter disappeared, and 
spring was abroad in the land. The rapidly 
bursting buds on tree and shrub whispered it to 
the birds ; the wheat fields on the hillsides mir- 
rored it in pictures of living green; the frogs 
were croaking to each other about it down in the 
meadows and hollows, while all the tiny insects 
had found it out, and were too busy to even talk 
about it. 

Olive had sent several messages inviting the 
girls to renew their visits to her. Hugh and Dr. 
Baylor, on several successive Saturdays, had 


232 


The Ivy Vine. 


come in mtli tlie carriage, but to no purpose. 
Lucille was strangely obdurate. On the third 
Saturday, Hugh came to Estelle. He looked 
troubled. hope you are not busy this morn- 
ing, Miss Estelle ; I want your undiyided atten- 
tion for a few moments, and thought maybe you 
would Avalk with me.” 

He waited until she finished baking a sponge 
cake for the morrow, then they strolled off up 
town toward the cemetery. 

It was an old-fashioned spot, quiet and undis- 
turbed. They sat down beside his mother’s 
grave, and inyoluntarily began plucking out the 
grass, and the seedling weeds from the little 
fiower plot. 

Hugh had said very little since starting, and 
that on indifferent subjects. How, with his 
hands occupied, and some excuse for his eyes to 
follow them, he began, hardly suppose I need 
to tell you ; girls have sharp enough eyes to find 
out those things without being told. I wish 
yours might be sharp enough to find out where 
the tangle is, and to help me get it out. I am 
sure Lucille must know of my love, but she 
fences me off so adroitly I have never found it 
possible to tell her so, and I cannot for the life 
of me decide whether it is the shyness of respon- 
sive feeling, or whether she generously Avishes 


The Ivy Vine. 233 

to spare me the pain of refusal. What do yon 
tliink 

The question came so abruptly it threw Es- 
telle into as blushing an embarrassment as if it 
had been a proposal to herself. However, Hugh 
understood her perfectly, and did not even risk 
an apology; he merely waited, or rather went 
on commenting on Lucille’s conduct toward him- 
self in a way to concentrate Estelle’s thoughts 
where he wanted them without any self- 
consciousness. He had great regard for 
Estelle’s instincts when he could get hold of 
them. 

am sure her avoiding you can be no proof 
that she is not in love with you,” Estelle said at 
last, ^Though Lucille is rather reserved at best, 
and has grown so much more so of late, I’m 
afraid I cannot give you any proof that she is. 
Still, if I had noticed more closely — ” 

Hugh interrupted to say, ^^That very reserve 
may, in itself, be a proof of her being in love — 
the effort of extreme maiden modesty to conceal 
it. I never did believe in subjecting a woman 
to that kind of strain — I haven’t a particle of 
the cat in me.” 

^Tle has comforted himself without help from 
me !” Estelle smiled to herself, and was glad at 
heart that he could, though she could not help 


234 


The Ivy Vine. 


an anxious dread lest he he therein laying up for 
himself a disappointment. ^^Certainly it can 
do no harm to end the suspense, both yours and 
hers,’’ she said aloud. 

He held a self-centered silence for a few mo- 
ments, then, ^^Olive does not know any of this, 
,and I think I Avill not tell her at all if — I fail, 
because — it might prejudice her against Lucille, 
and lose her a good friend. I do not at all know 
how father found it out, and I cannot by any 
means make up my mind Avhether he is trying 
to encourage or discourage me. Sometimes he 
chatfs me as if he thought it a boy’s ephemeral 
fancy, then again grows so churlish over the 
least hint of the subject I could half believe he 
Avanted her himself. Well, Miss Estelle, I be- 
lieve your advice is good, as it always is, and I 
Avill end the suspense at the earliest opportunity. 
Thank you more than I can tell — ” 

Estelle Avas too bashful to repudiate the 
credit, though fully conscious it A\^as only half 
hers. He took her home, and left her at the 
gate, considerably brighter than he came ; in 
fact, A\diistling like his old self, and Estelle Avon- 
dered AALat she had done to help him. 

Hugh had made her promise to try to per- 
suade Lucille to let the Ivy Vine meet Avith 
Olive that afternoon ; and he Avould come Avith 


The Ivv Vine. 


235 


the carriage. About an hour before the time, 
Estelle betook herself to Mrs. Wallaces to keep 
her promise. She thought she caught a glimpse 
of Hugh’s figure vanishing around the corner 
as she entered the gate into the yard. The door 
stood open, according to Bridgeton fashion, 
and seeing no one in sight, she walked in, and 
met Lucille coming out of the parlor, red-eyed 
and disconsolate. Estelle was inclined to turn 
away, and pretend she did not see, but Lucille 
faced the situation, as was her wont, asking, 
^‘Did yon come, too, to propose our going out to 
the country? I have just told Mr. Baylor it 
would be impossible for me to go, but possibly 
you and Olive could get along without me, this 
time,” then, seeing the protest in Estelle’s eyes, 
added languidly, ^Wou don’t know what a dread- 
ful headache I have.” 

This placed the question beyond appeal, and 
Estelle could do no less than agree to go and 
try. 

It was Paul who drove them out, not Hugh. 

Toothing in the world but consideration for 
Lncille had induced Estelle to undertake to fill 
her plac(^ even once. And more than once she 
realized she had counted without her host, for 
she Avas too absent-minded and pre-occupied for 
anything. Eortunately there Avere no important 


236 


The Ivy Vine. 


business matters to be attended to^, and they 
made the meeting short. 

As they stood in the yard waiting for Dr. 
l^aylor, Hugh spoke to Estelle through the vines 
of the porch. ^^Don’t turn/’ he said, am not 
quite equal to interviewing all these people. It 
is all over — will see and tell you about it to- 
morrow night ‘after church — may I 


CHAPTEE XXIII. 


Hugh. 

P OOE Hugh ! It was indeed ajl over for 
him. But he found when the time came 
he could not endure the touch even of Estelle’s 
gentle sympathy. In vain her glance shied 
timidly around among the students at the church 
door. He was not there. She dragged a little 
behind the others, to give him a chance to join 
her later, but he did not avail himself of it. 
Perhaps he meant to come to the house, she 
thought, and lingered in the porch for some time 
after her mother and father and Janet had gone 
in. Estelle was somew'hat addicted to moon- 
light gazing, and none would think it strange 
she should indulge to-night, for the flood of 
silver radiance was marvellously beautiful. It 
had, moreover, something warm, soft and en- 
folding about it, in harmony with her tender, 
pitiful thoughts of Hugh. Insensibly her 
thoughts floated up into words of prayer. Still 
Hugh did not come. Perhaps he was sick with 
sorrow and disappointment. Or, it might be 
that Olive claimed him at home. Maybe it was 
only the dread of seeing Lucille with some one 


238 


The Ivy Vine. 


else again — liis rival, whoever that might be. 
Yet it was not like Hugh to forego an engage- 
ment for anything short of absolute necessity. 
Or perhaps he had been a little late, and had 
mistaken Janet for herself — they were near the 
same size and build — and concluded she had 
accepted a substitute. 

The full-toned church clock struck ten, and 
soon after Estelle heard Janet and her visitor 
astir in the parlor. Slipping unnoticed past the 
door, she stole up stairs to get to bed and simu- 
late sleep before Janet joined her. But the 
sleep she courted was long in coming. It was 
not mere idle curiosity which nagged her, nor 
resentment for being thus left in the lurch with 
a broken engagement, her every thought and 
anxiety were for Hugh, though she knew not 
what to fear for him. She did know his whole 
strong, manly nature was involved in his love 
for Lucille, that he was not the man to love 
lightly, and as quickly forget. She thought of 
her Uncle Felix, and wondered if Hugh also 
would have years and years -of his life made a 
blank by this disappointment, and she longed 
with a great longing to see him and try to per- 
suade him not to give up to it in that way. 
However, worry and regret and desire were 
alike helpless. The first news she heard in the 


The Ivy Vine. 


239 


morning was tliat Hugh had started for Cali- 
fornia. Would she never know why he had 
failed to come ? or what motive or influence had 
at last prevailed to induce him to don the white 
feather in the face of trial ? Her o^vn words of 
consolation and advice, all thought out and re- 
vised and re-revised during that moonlight wait 
to make them express most helpfully the yearn- 
ing sympathy of her heart, had fallen back upon 
her in a blank heap — all for nought. 

However, when she went down to get the mail, 
for lack of something better to do to satiate her 
restlessness, she found a letter — Hugh’s full ac- 
count of himself. 

^^Between such friends as you and I, who 
understand each other, apologies are out of 
place. You could not help knowing, and I made 
no effort to conceal the fact, I was seeking the 
interview entirely for my o^vn behoof. An ach- 
ing heart longed for sympathy, which you know 
so well how to give ; a soul in bitterness craved 
to pour itself out before one who would not 
blame nor contemn. And yet, at the last minute 
I could not. Your very sympathy would have 
unnerved me, broken down my small store of 
manly endurance, and tempted me, perhaps, to 
speak of others in a Avay I should afterwards 
regret. 


" 24:0 


The Ivy Vine. 


^^And then, Estelle, I was not altogether self- 
ish. I could not forego the comfort of having 
you share niy trouble, but I could at least spare 
your sweet, sensitive spirit the sight of it. 
Hence I have stayed at home to-night, instead 
of keeping my engagement, to write it all out 
for you, to be read at your leisure and pleasure 
— in broken doses, if you will. 

have not talked much to you of my love for 
Tnicille, still I knew it was no secret tO' you, and 
T always found encouragement and hope in the 
interested smile I sometimes caught following 
us. I think I loved Lucille from the first mo- 
ment I met her at Olive’s bedside. And I have 
loved her more every day and hour since. Up 
to that time love had been entirely foreign to 
my life. It did not enter into my calculations 
at all. 1 had a feeling that I belonged to Olive, 
that nothing must ever come between us. For 
this reason I fought off the recognition of my 
affection for Lucille for a while. Finally, I 
yielded to the seductive conclusion that if I 
could win Lucille, it would add more to Olive’s 
comfort and happiness than anything else I 
could do. 

‘U had no special doubts of being able to do 
so, such is the conceit of the animal, man, until 
lately. Then it was not because I suspected a 


The Ivy Vine. 


241 


rival in the field, nor because she seemed more 
and more inclined to avoid me; beyond this and 
deeper, there was an intangible feeling when- 
ever with her, that she was deliberately trying 
to build np a barrier between ns. Still, I was 
not in the least prepared for what she told me 
last Saturday, nor, I think, will yon be. 

After my talk with yon Saturday morning, 
I felt brave and hopeful, and determined to do 
the manly thing. I would go home, and get 
myself thoronghly in hand, and let her come ont 
to the meeting with the girls withont embarrass- 
ment, then afterwards I would seize my oppor- 
tunity. T had fnlly determined not to subject 
her or myself to another night of uncertainty. 
Well, it would not have made any difference in 
results — a few hours, more or less — neverthe- 
less, when to failnre is added the consciousness 
of the loss of self-control a man can bnt despise 
himself the more. I couldn’t wait. I met Pan! 
on the street, and asked him to bring the carriage 
in for the girls, as I had a little matter of busi- 
ness to attend to, and might not go ont until too 
late. T fonnd Lncille in the parlor, and an 
embarrassed expectancy plainly indicated the 
likelihood of interruption, and also gave me a 
hint it was some one she did not wish me to 
meet. Bnt I stumbled blindly on, resolved if 
16 


242 


The Ivy Vine. 


only one moment be mine to fill it with the con- 
fession of my love. It did not take many words. 
In fact, if I had tried to clothe my simple story 
in the most poetic and impressive language, she 
would have foiled the attempt. Although con- 
fused and flurried beyond anything I had ever 
seen, she talked as if for a wager. 

last in desperation, imagining I heard 
footsteps on the porch, I blundered into the 
midst of something she was saying with, ^But, 
Lucille, I love yon; I came this afternoon 
especially to tell yon so.’ 

^^She stopped then, and grew deathly pale, 
clasping her hands together, when I made a 
motion to take one, with a grip which frightened 
me. 

‘T am so sorry yon said it,’ she murmured at 
last. Bt’s dreadful ; oh ! yon don’t know how 
dreadful it is;’ and she put her face in her 
hands, and quivered all over as if in a convul- 
sion. Yon may well believe I was miserable. 
I had hoped to confer happiness as great as I 
pleaded for, and lo ! I had caused this agony to 
the one I loved. 

^^Stupefied and helpless, I could only wonder, 
and regret, and wait for her to explain herself. 
We must have looked very absurd to the third 
party, who opened the door, and walked in on 


The Ivy Vine. 


243 


this little scene, and of all the people of the 
world, who should this third party he but father. 

ninst say you women are wonderful crea- 
tures for self-control. At the sound of footsteps, 
she sprang up and faced him with an April 
smile. He held her hand, while looking from 
one to the other with a sharp interrogative. She 
lifted her eyes to him, not me, with the sweet, 
confiding grace I had hoped to see shining in 
them for me, and said, Hell him. Dr. Baylor!’ 

^Dt hardly needed telling, but I listened, as I 
might have done to the hissing of the deadly 
shell aiming straight at my heart. 

‘Hugh, boy,’ he said, in a tone meant to be 
jovial, only he could not hide the pity of it, and 
the triumph, ‘Hugh, my boy, have you had the 
audacity to be making love to your stepmother ? 
There! there!’ as I sprang to my feet like a 
stung beast, ‘you may make love to her all you 
want now. She insists upon it, she is giving 
herself to the whole family, and you must for- 
get, my son,’ he put his hand on my shoulder, 
‘that she is not giving herself exactly in the 
way you might have preferred.’ 

“She held out her hand, such a precious 
pleading in her eyes, it almost killed me. I took 
the hand a moment in mine, but I had no answer 
to the pleading eyes. I only bowed low and 


244 : 


The Ivy Vine. 


departed. Father told me yesterday in a one- 
sided conversation that they had been engaged 
for two months or more, and she had been 
begging him all the time to take the family into 
confidence, hnt he knew what a prejudice there 
was against stepmothers, and hoped, by the 
short, sharp, surgeon’s knife process, of keeping 
it a profonnd secret until the very time Innl 
come, to spare the children the dread, and to 
disarm criticism and objections by the inevi- 
tableness of it. ^Of course, T did not dream,’ 
he said, ^yet I should have known it is always 
best to take a good woman’s advice.’ I managed 
to ninmble, nngracionsly, ^Tt could have made 
no difference any way.’ And this is all I have 
to tell. T have nobody to blame, of course. It 
would be some consolation if T had. It is merely 
one of those nnavertible disasters for which there 
is no help save grim endurance, only I conld 
not stay and see the consummation. T start 
early to-morrow morning for California. 

/^This is my good-bye. Do not, T beg yon, 
allow this to influence in the least yonr affection 
for Lucille. And, oh ! comfort Olive for my 
sake. Take care of her in my place !” 

It broke off abruptly here without signature, 
save his initials, H. B., and the little Latin word 
''Vale/' which he so often used at parting. Yes, 


The Ivy Vine. 


245 


ITiigli was gone. A new blank in life. A new 
responsibility for Estelle. She fully appreci- 
ated it, too, for none knew better than she what 
Hugh had been to Olive, guarding her life with 
a woman’s instinctive tenderness, and a man’s 
protecting strength. How should she ever take 
his place ! Why had not Hugh left the charge 
to Lucille ? Estelle’s face burned to remember 
the time when Hugh thought she had been the 
cause of danger and suffering to Olive, and had 
depended on Lucille to soothe and restore. It 
was a comfort to know he could trust her 
now. 

Perhaj^s Avhat Hugh wanted her to do was to 
prepare Olive for the approaching marriage, 
help to reconcile her to it. Would she oppose 
it ? Estelle could not tell. Olive had been, to 
all intents and purposes, the head of the house 
now for eight years, by virtue of being the only 
woman in it. ~No doubt, it would cost something 
to resigTi the homage of such a loyal little king- 
dom, and to have some one take the mother’s 
place is always hard. Still, Olive had no fool- 
ishness about her. She was not apt to make 
herself unhappy over what could not be helped, 
and she was specially fond of Lucille. 

Simple thinking had wound itself out; she 
must go out to see Olive, and — do what she could 


246 


The Ivy Vine. 


for Hugh’s sake. ^‘Poor Hugh” was the burden 
of her thoughts for many a day. 

Hugh had been careful in assigning reasons 
for his trip to steer so clear of Lucille and the 
approaching marriage as to prevent her being 
associated with his going in any way. 

When the annonncement of the marriage was 
made to the family Paul and Elmer felt sorely 
tempted to ‘h’aise a little dust” over the pro- 
sjiective change, but Olive did not disappoint 
tliose who knew her best, and was able to talk 
calmly of it, howbeit with a. shade of reserve, as 
if needing to exercise some self-control. To 
Estelle she said she Avas glad her father could 
do it, because she Avas so little account since her 
sickness, for the comfort of the family, and 
Lucille Avas so loA^ely, he surely could not liaA^e 
chosen more Avisely. Olive’s example Avas potent 
in restraining the boys, for they Avell kneAv it 
meant the most to her. 

After this visit, Estelle came to the conclnsion 
her efforts to console in place of Hugh AA^ould be 
supernumerary. Nevertheless, many a time 
afterAvards she realized Iioav Olive clung to her. 

NotAvithstanding Hugh’s charge, not to alloAV 
his disappointment to influence her feelings to- 
Avard Lncille, Estelle couldn’t help it. She 
noticed, Avith positive personal resentment, that 


The Ivy Vine. 


247 


after Ilugli’s departure, Lucille lost the troubled 
eiubarrassiiieut she bad so often manifested, and 
suffered her face to express the serene, unosten- 
tatious happiness she evidently felt. Did Lu- 
cille suspect the true state of her feelings that 
she sought her more than was her wont, and 
discussed confidentially all her plans and ar- 
rangements ! Of course, Estelle could not resist 
tills, though there was always a. deprecating con- 
sciousness of disloyalty to Hugh, and the old 
spiteful feeling would occasionally crop up until 
she saw the first interview between Olive and 
her new mother. “Xothing could be more un- 
affectedly tender and sweet,’’ thought Estelle — 
an unexpected witness of it — and for the rest 
concluded to leave Providence to Avork out his 
will for the good of all without any more useless 
worrying on her part. 

Lhe cpiiet wedding took place in June, and 
the happy pair started off for a short tri]), leav- 
ing Estelle with Olive until their return. 

Lhe return of Berta, Efiie and Agnes for the 
summer tlirew new life into the Ivy Vine. And 
on Lucille’s return from her bridal trip, she 
resumed her place as its head, so they got along 
splendidly, and l)efore school time came again, 
the industry of the girls Avas manifest in a neat 
reserve s'tock of pretty articles for the autumn 
fair. 


248 


The Ivy Vine. 


To Estelle it was a most liappj and restful 
summer. Slie needed it after the unusual re- 
sponsibilities of the year. She and Agnes, hav- 
ing never been separated before, did not realize 
how hard it had been on both. Yet Agnes had 
made fine progress in her studies and Estelle 
had done equally well with her drawing and 
painting. She had specially enjoyed the prac- 
tical instruction in drawing from nature, and 
the excursions in the spring for that purpose. 

The separation of the two sisters again in the 
fall was even harder than at first because they 
knew now what it was. But, busy days and 
months pass quickly. When N’annie Lindsay 
came home in February, Estelle knew the long 
session Avas half gone, and began to check off the 
remaining Aveeks on her almanac Avith a delicious 
sense of groAving nearness to June. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

UisrcERTAiN' Fruits. 

A XEW face among the feminine constitu- 
ency of a college town always creates a 
breeze of sensation. For a while the name and 
attractions of the young lady Avill be bandied 
about among the students with all the zest of a 
new game — that is, among those who take the 
‘^calico ticket.’’ 

Xannie Lindsay’s two years ended with the 
fall term, timing her home-coming in the dull 
reaction after Christmas. 

She had fulfilled her promise to the girls and 
studied well. Though she did not take the full 
graduating course, she brought home several 
diplomas and certificates in special branches, 
with a letter commending her as qualified to 
teach these several branches. Unfortunately, 
another aim possessed her soul. From a little 
girl she had envied the young ladies who had 
plenty of beaux, and wondered if she would ever 
be so blessed wdien grown, or whether the beauty 
she was conscious of possessing even then, would 
be so shrouded in poverty and ignorance that the 


250 


The Ivy Vine. 


students would never care to notice it. This 
was her opportunity, and she did not intend it 
should be lost. If any qualms of conscience 
visited her for failing to carry out the plans of 
those who had given her such advantages, she 
salved them over with the persuasion that, after 
she had had a little fun, a wealthy marriage 
would really help the family more than if she 
should ^Mrudge her life away” teaching. 

In the two years she had spent in a large 
hoarding-school, and the intervening summer 
with her aunt, partly at Long Branch, she had 
learned some things which were not in the semi- 
nary curriculum. For instance, she had become 
as proficient in reading faces as French; had 
become as skillful in playing on human hearts 
as on the piano. 

Something, too, she had learned of the artistic 
effect of simple draperies in touching up worn 
or sombre furniture, the brightening power of 
flowers, and the wonderful possibilities of light 
and shadow. 

The little home her father had left them soon 
showed the efficiency of this part of her educa- 
tion. One or two of her own paintings, which 
her aunt had framed for the exhibition, adorned 
the walls ; tidies and sofa pillows, manufactured 
during leisure moments while away from home. 


The Ivy Vine. 


251 


helped to conceal the poorness of the furniture, 
and the square of carpet which Selina’s earnings 
had bought in honor of her home-coming, was 
made the most of. In all her improvements, she 
had an eager little helper in Selina, avIio idolized 
her sister none the less because of the sacrifices 
she had made, and was continually making, for 
her. 

As for the girl herself: a fair complexion, 
bright blue eyes, and light curly hair, is a rather 
ordinary, but often a very pretty combination. 
^N’annie had, in addition, a brilliant color, be- 
witching dimples, pretty mouth and teeth, and 
a round, trim figure. Each of these was a point 
in the measure of her self-valuation. 

It was not customary in those days to announce 
in the paper the goings and comings of society 
lights, and in a college town it was entirely 
unnecessary. There were generally plenty of 
Athenians among the students to do the requisite 
advertising of the advent of a pretty girl. 
Xanny Lindsay’s little parlor soon became the 
most popular place about town. 

* -x- -x- * *Jf 

A group of collegians stood on the campus 
one day animatedly discussing the new star 
when Prof. J. Carr Carter and Stanley Sinclair 
passed by. 


252 


The Ivy Vine. 


Their friendship had grown and deepened 
with each sncoeeding year. To Stanley, the Pro- 
fessor was a constant intellectnal stimulant, a 
delightful incentive to study, now that he knew 
liim. On the other hand, Stanley’s staunch 
friendship had often brought his own social 
popularity to bear between the Professor and 
class troubles, for Professor Carter was still 
occasionally pricked to sharpness by the invul- 
nerable dullness or reckless levity of some mem- 
ber of his Greek class. To one who felt the glow 
in his soul at sight of a Greek letter it was per- 
fectly incomprehensible how the most stupid 
could be dull or frivolous in the presence of the 
great masters of Greek literature. Besides, 
Stanley’s genial good-fellowship, more apt to 
find the diamond than the poison in a com- 
panion, had been a fine tonic to the Professor’s 
social disposition — its only safeguard, in fact, 
for since the death of his wife, a few months 
after that of their baby, he had lived a recluse 
as far as ladies were concerned. 

^^Have you been to call on Miss Lindsay; 
that seems the order of the day ?” Starrley asked, 
turning to his companion, with a wary twinkle 
in his eye. 

‘‘I ?” the Professor echoed, with the intona- 
tion of unlikelihood. Yet a slow smile followed. 


The Ivy Vine. 


253 


ending in, ‘^1 had a kind of rencounter with her 
the other day. Perhaps I ought to have called.’’ 

Sinclair was only feigning innocence, lie 
had heard the whole matter from Miss Lindsay, 
but listened interestedly again, for at the close 
of Miss Lindsay’s recital she had said, am 
crazy to know the professor. Cannot you 
bring him to see me ?” So, now Sinclair took 
care to remark, opportunely, think you should 
by all means pay your respects. You will find 
her charming, and perhaps at this hour we may 
escape the rabble. Shall we go ?” 

Rather to his surprise, the Professor agreed. 
Only Comes was there. His black eyes were 
like a poignard poised with necessity to prick 
somebody, for the interruption, when they en- 
tered. However, Miss Lindsay knew how to 
manage him. She turned at once to the new- 
comers with her whole attention. Comes in- 
stantly softened. She as instantly met the peni- 
tent appeal of his gentler eyes and tones with a 
swift, sweet flash of regret ^^for him alone.” He 
did not stay long, however, and the electric 
speech of her hand in his one moment at parting- 
sent him home happy, though all the world 
should make love to her in his absence. 

am glad you have at last given me the right 
to know you, as I have heard so much about 


254 


The Ivv Vine, 


you.’’ Her blue eyes looked a bewildering rev- 
erent admiration at the Professor, with just a 
shy, confiding glance toward his companion. 

If Prof. J. Carr Carter had fully imbihed 
what she was saying, being a diffident man, he 
might have felt some pleased curiosity with re- 
gard to current opinion of himself. His re- 
sponse wa*s rather irrelevant, ^‘Have you felt any 
serious inconvenience from your accident the 
other day 

^‘Xot much,” she said, catching her lip under 
small white teeth, while a tiny pucker as of 
pain came between her brows, as she stretched 
her foot out a little carefully. ^‘It was only a 
slight sprain, I am thankful to say, and is nearly 
well, except sometimes a twinge in moving it.” 

should have called earlier to inquire,” he 
spoke, apologetically, ^‘but, you know, I do not 
visit.” The Professor’s diffidence had been 
■growing on him at a distressing rate during his 
seclusion. Por that very reason, his friend, Sin- 
clair, had jumped at the opportunity of bringing 
him into contact with the perfect ease and self- 
possession of Miss Lindsay. 

do not like to hear you say that,” she told 
him, with a sympathetic gravity. ^‘1 was in 
hopes you would come often enough to help me 
a little with my Greek. I studied it two years. 


The Iv'fi Vine. 


255 


and have to confess, with shame, I know nothing 
in the world about it. My teacher was so dull 
and nnenthnsiastic, and — I conld have loved it 
so She gave a quick glance on the sly at Sin- 
clair, as innch as to say, ^^See how cleverly I 
have profited by yonr hints,’’ and added, ^^At 
any rate, ^\’e will not call it visiting Avhen you 
come to see me. But, really, don’t you think — ” 
A pretty, shy hesitation seemed to trip her 
speech. She turned an appealing look to Sin- 
clair to help her out, but he only shook his head 
laughingly. She made a new beginning, ^^Might 
it not be that the most brilliant intellects, instead 
of being blunted, are sharpened and brightened 
by contact with the small pebbles of our woman’s 
wit ?” She saw the ^^bravo !” in Stanley’s eyes 
and in the noiseless applause of his hands, and 
fiushed with pleasure. 

^lean while the Professor looked with retro- 
S|:)ective soberness at a picture of ^AVhere Brook 
and River Meet.” In fact, his gaze was fixed so 
long she began to fear she had struck a wrong 
note. But presently his slow smile reappeared. 

believe you are right. Miss Lindsay — ” 
At this moment Russell Brent appeared on the 
scene, and several others quickly following, the 
Professor subsided, with his unfinished sentence, 
into an observant silence. Sinclair joined in 


25G 


The Ivy Vine. 


among the boys for a few moments, then, signal- 
ing his friend, they rose to go. 

Miss Lindsay stepped out of the circle with 
them to say good-bye, and, looking up into the 
grave, matter-of-fact face of the Professor, said, 
shall be a restless ghost until you bridge that 
hyphen. How soon will you come again 

As the door closed between Miss Lindsay and 
Prof. Carter, Mr. Brent sprang to his feet, and 
wheeled, facing her, his eyes sparkling with mis- 
chief. As she passed him to resume her seat, 
he leaned forward and asked, in a half whisper, 
^^Miss Lindsay, how did you get him 

^^What do you mean, Mr. Brent a little 
stiffly. 

^^How did you get Professor Iceberg to come 
to see you ? Do tell me 

With mocking hauteur she retorted, ^^Pray, 
how did T get you, Mr. Brent 

^^Good !’’ he cried, with none the less relish 
that the laugh Avas turned upon himself. 

As they were leaving, Duncan McCann made 
some excuse to turn back, and, despite Brent’s 
call of ^hio fair,” secured one little private mo- 
ment before her supper-bell rang. He wanted 
to tell her he had found the hymn they had 
vainly tried to recall, and which, she said, had 
always been her favorite. They differed as to 


The Ivy Vine. 


257 


the most suitable tune, and it became necessary 
to try several before deciding. He thought her 
voice and touch peculiarly adapted to sacred 
music, and they sang together whenever they 
could get a chance, which was seldom enough, 
McCann thought, considering she enjoyed it as 
much as he. 

Thus Xannie Lindsay was diligently studying 
the tactics of conquest, even as did the great 
Xapoleon, and applying them in her small 
sphere with a like consummate skill. If the 
innermost tablet of her consciousness could have 
been open to our eyes that night, her numerous 
admirers would possibly have been indexed 
somewhat after this fashion. 

^^Brent — Egypt. _ V\\ sharpen my wits on 
him. 

^^Prof. J. Carr Carter — Moscow. May I be 
able to out-Hapoleon Hapoleon. If I do, I shall 
plant my standard there. 

‘^Sinclair — shame to call him Italy, but he is 
such a willing and delightful cat’s-paw. 

^^McCann — he is the good old tabby himself, 
who, for an occasional little kindly rub, will 
purr forever. 

Comes — were there ever such eyes ! I fear 
he will be my Waterloo.” 

Everybody was surprised to hear that Pro- 


258 


The Ivy Vine. 


fessor Carter had called on Miss Lindsay, for 
everybody did hear of it. 

am not sure you did him a kindness that 
time,’’ Virgie said to Stanley Sinclair. 

Stanley laughed. ^^She is wonderfully bright 
and fascinating. It was a perfect treat to see 
her handle him. I would not take anything 
for it.” 

McCann’s eyes were shining, hut Virgie still 
sliook her head. 

^^Maybe she is not such a black sheep as she 
has been painted to you. You must have gotten 
your impressions from one of her discarded 
lovers,” and he looked at McCann, in quiet 
raillery. 

don’t know why you should use the word 
Black in the same sentence with her,” the young 
man said, a trifle hotly. ^^She does not ^cast 
pearls before swine’ ; but, to my certain know- 
ledge, there is not a truer, lovlier Christian in 
town.” 

Virgie and Sinclair looked at each other 
under arched brows. Evidently it was too seri- 
ous a matter for joking in that direction. 

It was very evident to the girls that Hannie 
was playing a pretty wild row, and they felt 
some compunction over it, as in some small 
measure responsible. But the young men stood 
by her to a man. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 


A Gala Xight for the Ivy Leaves. 

J UXE had come. Its roses had budded and 
bloomed, and a host of other floral beauties 
were blushing themselves into a glory of rivalry. 

Xannie Lindsay had reigned as belle of 
Bridgeton for nearly flve months without a 
rival. She was looking forward to the college 
party as the acme of her existence. Berta and 
Eflie Blair and Agnes Graham would all be at 
home in time for it this year, as their school 
closed a week earlier. Berta and Effie had suc- 
ceeded, as they had hoped, in graduating in two 
years. Agnes needed one more. But she had 
won a scholarship, which would enable her to 
get it without further expense to her father or 
Uncle Felix. 

Estelle did not generally enjoy these public 
occasions very much, but this time she was so 
happy in having the girls at home she found 
tlieir delighted anticipations were proving con- 
tagious. To fill up the measure of her joy Olive 
was to try it this year for the first time. She 


The Ivy Vine. 


2G0 

had been so frail heretofore, her father had been 
afraid to permit it. 

The college party was a kind of yearly 
omnium Gallium. One saw everybody there. 

Gra*me Gordon had cornered his Cousin Effie 
early in the action. 

“I am so glad yon do not have to go back to 
school/’ he was saying, ^^it has been lonesome 
without yon these two years.” 

^Gt can hardly matter mnch to yon, I should 
think,” she returned, ^^since yon will be away 
yonrself next winter.” 

“Xevertheless, it will make this difference, 
that I can come to see yon when yon are at home, 
though the nniversity is a little farther off, 
which I could not do last year while yon were at 
school.” 

Gra?me Gordon was expecting to take the med- 
ical course at the nniversity. 

Most of onr acquaintances among the students 
were about to scatter, either to continue their 
preparation for life-work elsewhere, or to take 
direct hold of business for which they felt them- 
selves already fitted. 

There is always a sense of breakage or loss in 
thns loosening the ties of college friendships. 
Ten and Stanley Sinclair had steadily grown in 
the affections of all who knew them; Stanley 


The Ivy Vine. 


261 


for liis almost womanly gentleness, and his 
delicate, chivalrous sense of honor and courtesy, 
and Len for sterling worth in a somewhat 
rougher mould, and for his beautiful loyalty 
and spaniel-like devotion to his younger, more 
gifted brother. Stanley, Avith Duncan McCann, 
expected the ensuing fall to enter the theological 
seminary. Len Avas going immediately into 
business Avith his father. 

Mr. Brent and Mr. Conies were still oftenest 
seen together, though it never ceased to be a 
problem, what constituted the cementing bond 
betAveen two such incongruous elements, and 
hoAv the soft silk of Comes’ wiley sophistry had, 
through three years of close intimacy, managed 
to evade the electric spark of Brent’s inflam- 
mable spirit. 

They, too, Avere among those Avho might de- 
part. They had studied laAV for the past year 
under Judge Bland, but had about decided, as 
they AA^ere telling their friends, to flnish their 
course elscAvhere. At least, Brent had, Avith 
Comes it Avas a matter of indecision. 

Many ncAv student faces appear and disappear 
each year Avhom Ave must not even try to intro- 
duce. Xannie Lindsay evidently SAvays the 
multitude this year. There are not many of 
those present Avho may not be found at some 


262 


The Ivv Vine. 


time during tlie evening attached to her train, 
and for the greater part of them it was for as 
much of the time as they could get near enough 
to hear and be heard. Mr. Comes’ devotion is 
still constant and unequivocal. lie has never 
cared for any other woman, and is rarely absent 
from her elbow. Duncan McCann, with his 
guileless, faith in woman, Avas still her most 
abject victim. Stanley Sinclair understands 
her better, yet even he, too often for his OAvn 
good, falls under the Avitchery of her eye, Avhile 
Brent flutters in and out of the circle around 
her, like a butterfly protesting its indifference 
to the light. As for Prof. Carter, he Avas keep- 
ing out of her Avay to-night, but only under 
promise. She had proffered him the privilege 
of escort to and from, on condition that he Avould 
rather aA^oid her A\diile there. am so dread- 
fully afraid people Avill begin to tease me about 
you,” she said to him, Avitli irreproachable 
naivete, ^^and if they do, I knoAV I AAdll make a 
goose of myself.” 

Of course, the professor Avas all obedience, 
and inter nos the stipulation served her purpose 
AA^ell, as his presence Avas rather a restraint upon 
the younger men. 

In another part of the rooms, Berta’s beauty 
Avas beginning to tell on the susceptible. In 


The Ivy Vine. 


263 


height, figure and style, she was a veritable 
queen among her peers, and her eyes magnifi- 
cent, while her voice was inexpressibly rich and 
mellow. 

By the side of the most beautiful you will 
inevitably find the Kentuckian. 

‘^Miss Blair I am glad you returned in time 
to save me from that hopeless vortex of mortified 
vanity.” His gesture and glance indicated Kan- 
nie Lindsay. 

As Berta^s eye followed, a vivid smile ran 
around that other circle. 

^‘Miss Lindsay and her friends seem to be very 
happy with a faint query in her arched brows. 

^Blappy ? Yes, as small boys playing with a 
loaded pistol. Tell me, please — ” and resting 
his right elbow on his knee, he leaned forward, 
and from his steel-gray orbs sent a search-light 
into the unfathomed depths of hers — ^Tell me 
Avherein consists the pleasure of having a lot of 
Les Miserahles at one’s feet ? You are a woman, 
can you enlighten me ? It has always been a 
puzzle.” 

He looked dead in earnest, yet there was an 
imp of quizzical mischief lurking somewhere in 
his expression. 

Berta flushed and bridled a little under his 
l^ersistent gaze. 


264 


The Ivv Vine. 


^^You could not expect a school girl to be wise 
in such matters, either experimentally or from 
observation,’’ she replied archly. ^^Still, if you 
will remove the restriction to Svoman,’ we might 
discuss the subject theoretically.” 

He tossed his fore-lock back with a merry 
laugh, which caught the jealous ear of Hannie 
Lindsay. Of others also, perhaps, for in the 
few succeeding moments there Avas an evening 
up of the tAvo circles, and the theoretical analysis 
and discussion of flirting had several additional 
participants, and as many applauding listeners. 

MeanAAdiile, Prof. Carter, bound over to keep 
at a respectful distance from his load-star, for 
such Yannie Lindsay had become by virtue of 
being the only lady he really kneAV, noticed 
Estelle Graham — a temporary wall-floAver — -and 
thought to play the benevolent for once in his 
life by Avay of getting rid of the time Avhich 
Avas hanging rather heavily on his hands. 
Stanley Sinclair, his usual resource on such 
occasions, Avas looking too Avell satisfied Avitli 
Agnes to admit of being disturbed. Prof. Car- 
ter had knoAvn Estelle, as he kncAv most people, 
through the mere formalities of life. Eor in- 
stance, being a member of the same college 
faculty as her father, he had met her on occa- 
sions Avhen business or pleasure called them 


The Ivy Vine. 


265 


together at her father’s house; also in duty 
calls there. But Estelle was so easily abashed 
the effort to make conversation with her was 
seldom an easy task, and she was not apt to take 
such duty on herself, even in her own home, if 
there were any one else in whose favor she might 
shirk it. Besides, her father’s great respect for 
f^rof. Carter’s learning caused her still more to 
feel, as she expressed it, ^^a mum little stupid” 
in his presence. 

Consequently she had never volunteered a 
remark to him. On his part, he regarded her as 
an undeveloped child, extremely diffident. 
Herein, at least, he ought to be able to sympa- 
thize with her. 

As he aj^proached her, he could not but no- 
tice her glance about in every direction, as if 
for a way of escape, and his conscience smote 
him for making himself such an ogre to an inno- 
cent young girl. He determined on the spot to 
redeem himself, and — who could tell ? — he 
might succeed in winning to himself another 
such true friend as Stanley Sinclair; he could 
see already in her face the same self-abnegation, 
and the same innate sincerity. 

Estelle had come to the party- with the intui- 
tive foreknowledge that she would be a wall- 
flower, nor did she particularly care, provided 


26G 


The Ivy Vine. 


she coiild only remain unnoticed. She had a 
fancy for watching other people, as they talked, 
and found it infinitely more entertaining than 
trying to talk Avithout interest. To her, being a 
Avall-flower, was Elysium beside the effort to 
converse Avitli the erudite professor. N^everthe- 
less, the Professor came, and conquered. At the 
end of an hour she had discovered that a man 
may he agreeable, though ever so learned, and 
he had decided she Avas a much brighter girl 
than he had supposed, else she could not be such 
an intelligent listener. In his bencA^olent effort 
to break doAvn the bars of her reserve and self- 
depreciation, he actually forgot for the time the 
arbitrary restriction AAdiich had primarily driven 
him to it, until the sound of Miss Lindsay’s 
voice suddenly }>enetrated to him, and, looking 
up, he met her eye, conveying to him the clear 
impression that she Avas not altogether pleased 
Avith him, dutiful as he had tried to be. Be- 
coming restless under it, and under necessity 
to make some change, he got up, saying in all 
sincerity, ^Aliss Estelle, you have given me a 
A^ery delightful hour.” 

Avas just thinking the same,” she returned, 
Avith AA^onderfully unembarrassed heartiness. 

‘^Yow did not expect it, though, did you?” 
he questioned, Avith a sIoav gleam of mischief. 


The Ivy Vine. 


267 


She blushed, but laughed, because I 

thought it was going to be so stupid for you. 
And of course it was, only you have not let me 
find it out.’’ 

^‘You must take my word for it,” he said, with 
a kind of blunt gentleness, have never en- 
jo3’ed a college party until to-night. Kow, take 
me over to your friend. Miss Baylor. I do not 
know her very well, and would like to know her 
better.” 

They had not gone many steps, however, be- 
fore they were intercepted b^^ J anet F aulkner. 

was just coming over to relieve you. Pro- 
fessor; would have been earlier, but could not 
get away from the boys. I have been wondering 
restlessly for the last half hour whether my bash- 
ful 3^oung sister could make herself agreeable 
compan\' for our wisest young professor. She 
doesn’t always, you know.” • 

Estelle pluiyed herself for flight as soon as 
cognizant of Janet’s design to take possession 
of Professor Carter. But, having heard that 
much, naturally she waited to hear a little more. 

^^^ 7 o, I cannot say I hnow the fact. She cer- 
tainly^ has not proved it to me to-night,” she 
heard him say, and looked back with a grateful 
flush; but he was already devoting his entire 
attention to Janet for the moment, and had 


268 


The Ivy Vine. 


probably forgotten the errand he bad proposed 
to her. However, as she noticed Olive had only 
Paul and one of his friends with her at the 
time, she sought her for her own behoof. 

It was not very often that Estelle and Olive 
wanted for something to say, but after Paul and 
his companion left them they gTew strangely 
quiet for the time and place. They were both, 
unconsciously, missing Hugh. He was such 
good circulating medium — ^kept the young men 
stirring at a party so there could be no wall- 
flowers when he was about. 

Virgie presently succeeded in getting rid of a 
^‘bore’’ and joined them. Here Professor Carter 
found Estelle again, when ^^some of the boys” 
in search of Janet had come to his relief. For 
the rest of the evening she and Olive greatly 
enjoyed the vivacious tete-a-tete between Virgie 
and the Professor. . 

One day had already passed over the limit 
into another, when Hannie Lindsay appeared, 
l>eering around somewhat anxiously, with a 
small retinue of followers. She soon spied the 
object of her search, and sending each of her 
companions away with a fresh bonbon of 
pleasant words, she beckoned to the Professor, 
and whispered, ^^You have been good — almost to 
a fault. As a reward, I have dismissed every- 


The Ivy Vine. 


269 


body else, and yon are to have me all to yourself 
for the walk home, as you did coming, none of 
the second-fiddles and interruptions I know you 
so much detest. I managed we should have this 
one more nice, quiet talk together, notwithstand- 
ing the students plead and argued I should give 
them the preference, as they were going away. 
I will he ready now in just a moment.” She 
lifted her face to his with its most witching ex- 
pression, then tripped away, smiling back over 
her shoulder from the door, while he stood look- 
ing after her, wondering how anything human 
could be so exquisite, so pure, so altogether 
lovely. 

This party was the closing feature of the com- 
mencement. The young men scattered imme- 
diately afterwards. Indeed, some good-byes 
Avere spoken that night. The next day was full 
of them. 

Mr. Brent an-d Mr. Comes had both decided 
to return to the Law Class the next winter, as 
^^annie Lindsay had predetermined they should. 
^‘Without them as foils,” she said to herself, ‘T 
fear I Avould never reach my Moscow.” 


CHAPTEK XXVI. 


Under the Church Window. 

B PEXT and Comes did actually return to 
finish their law course in Bridgeton, as 
Xannie Lindsay had made up her mind they 
should. She, at times, almost regretted the easy 
accomplishment of her purpose, as she occasion- 
ally learned of a decided defection on Brent’s 
part toward Berta Blair. However, thus far 
she had had no difficulty in drawing him baok 
as soon as she knew of it. The method she had 
found most effective was to make the favor she 
doled out to Comes conditional on the unequivo- 
cal allegiance of Brent. Comes worshipped the 
very breath she breathed, and this cruel exaction 
was sometimes more than he could bear. 

^‘A"ou are the most merciless tyrant this world 
ever knew!” he flashed out at her one day 
through his white teeth, angrily clenched. ^AVhy 
do you ask more of me, whom you profess to 
love, than of others, whose love you are only 
playing with 

^‘Don’t you know ?” she said, soothingly. 
Comes !” and she turned on him the intoxi- 


The Vine. 


m. 


eating light of her bine eyes, while the color 
deepened into a flush on her round, dimpled 
cheeks, and her tones were meltingly tender. 
That was enough. He was eagerly ready to do 
her bidding again, even to the endurance of 
untold tortures from jealousy. 

Virgie Wallace still took quite seriously this 
outcome of one of their benevolent schemes. One 
after another, she had seen her friends fall under 
the power of Hannie Lindsay^s fascination, and 
there was no use saying a word to them; it did 
not amount to a pennyweight against one of her 
ravishing smiles. ^‘Yet it does seem as if we 
ought to do something,’’ she was saying to Effie 
and Estelle on one occasion, ^^because it stands 
to reason she could not be so attractive to college- 
bred men without education, and — without our 
help she might not have been able to avail her- 
self of her aunt’s offer.” 

^‘Still, it would hardly have been right for 
her to have missed it,” said Effie, ^^and I don’t 
know that we have any reason to regret helping 
her to get what she could.” 

^^Except,” interposed Estelle, ^^perhaps if we 
had not been so proud of her beauty, and fixed 
her up so nicely to show it off, she might not 
have been tempted to use it in this selfish way.” 
heard father say the other day,” observed 


272 


The Ivy Vine. 


Effie, ^^tliat the students, as a whole, had fallen 
to a lower grade this year than he had ever 
known. E'annie may be responsible, even for 
that, for Mrs. McBride says nobody has any idea 
how much time the young men spend there.’’ 

^^Well,” said Yirgie, ^^there is no good in talk- 
ing of her evil ways, unless there is something 
we can do about it. Would it do any good, do 
you think, for one of us to go to see her and have 
a plain talk with her ? Because, if you think so, 
I suppose I am the one to do it, as I am older 
than she, and, being not so much home-folks, she 
may not feel called upon to resent it. I am 
]:>erfectly willing to do it, if you all think best.” 

So Yirgie tilled her quiver with all sorts of 
arguments, dravui from her own candid, con- 
scientious soul, pointed by real kindness and 
polished by native wit. But her report, given 
in a half-puzzled amusement, was, — ^^Nannie 
has evidently gotten into the habit of flirting, 
and cannot help it, even with a girl. After my 
little bit of experience, I cannot blame the young 
men. There certainly is a great deal of natural 
sweetness in the girl, and I really do not believe 
she realizes the harm she is doing.” Then she 
laughed self-derisively, and added, acknow- 
ledge myself defeated. If anybody else wants to 
try it, let them.” 


The Ivy Vine. 


273 


‘‘There is only one other thing I can think of 
to do/’ observed Estelle, in her shy, sweet way, 
while Effie was wondering if her mother could 
have any influence. 

“What is it you are thinking of, Estelle 
they all wanted to know. 

“Get Uncle Eelix to talk to her, some time,” 
she answered, “when he gets a good oppor- 
tunity.” 

The girls quite jumped at this proposition. 
Uncle Felix was the very one. Being a man, 
she would be the more apt to listen and heed, 
and such a staid, invulnerable old bachelor, — 
even E’annie would hardly find it worth while to 
exercise her wiles on him. They went imme- 
diately in a body to put the whole case before 
him. 

He did not seem to be very hopeful, but 
promised to think it over. He surprised Hannie 
very much, shortly after, by asking her to take 
a walk with him. He had taken care it should 
be at a time when she would not miss more 
agreeable company. 

They followed the road which would soonest 
bring them out of to^vn, and Mr. Graham 
brought into requisition all his foreign lore and 
native' talent for her entertainment, and her 
quick responsive repartee and merry laugh testi- 
18 


274 


The Ivy Vine. 


fiecl to his success so far. They sat down at last 
beside a little woodland stream, from whence 
they could catch pretty glimpses of the town 
through the trees. They dropped into a mo- 
ment’s silence, while he revised the little speech 
he had cut and dried for the occasion. 

Wien he made ready to begin, she was look- 
ing down at the water with a shy, blushing rest- 
lessness that was not unbecoming. ^^She suspects 
what I am going to say, and I might as well 
come boldly out with my lecture.” 

^^I7annie,” he said, in his most patriarchal 
tone and manner, ‘^1 give you credit for sufficient 
acuteness to know I did not request this walk 
with you for idle pastime. You are perfectly 
aware I am no ladies’ man.” 

“Very good of you, I am sure,” she said, fill- 
ing the pause without looking up. 

“Being a fatherless girl, it would be only 
natural for any man to take a protective interest 
in you, especially being a member of the same 
church.” 

Here she glanced up with a slightly puzzled 
air. Evidently she had not yet caught the drift 
of his intention. 

“How, if I should see an unprotected little 
lamb straying into fields where I knew there 
would be danger and trouble, what could I do 


The Ivy Vine. 


275 


but try to get it back to safety, and under such 
protection as would keep it there 

A sudden start and flush of consciousness, 
which had every apj>earance of being natural, 
and which he did not exactly know the meaning 
of, embarrassed him, made him stumble in his 
speech, and gave her opportunity to say, depre- 
catingly, ^^Oh ! Mr. Felix, I am sorry you said 
that. Don’t say any more, and I will try to 
forget it. I did so hope you were only going 
to ask to be my good, true friend. That is what 
I wanted you to be. But when one has gone as 
far as this, it is so hard to be free - and easy 
again,” and she put her face into her hands 
with a touching gesture of distress. If she were 
laughing behind them, simple-hearted Uncle 
Felix did not suspect. He was only thinking, 
^Ht takes something of a brute to tell a pretty 
girl you do not love her, when you have, ever 
so unintentionally, given her reason to believe 
you do.” His face grew red back to the edge of 
his hair, as he hastily tried to rectify himself. 
But she baflled him at every turn, and when they 
reached home, he could only say to himself, 
am nothing but an old fool, to get myself entan- 
gled in such a trap. The only cause I have for 
congratulation is that she had the good sense 
not to want me.” And, in the simplicity of his 


276 


The Ivy Vine. 


heart, he never dreamed she had purposely given 
this turn to the affair to avert the lecture she had 
sniffed in the air. 

After this she was left to her own devices, and 
her unsophisticated victims to escape as best they 
might. 

ITowbeit, the most consummate flirt will some- 
times stretch her lines too far. A time came 
when Comes knew, by all the rules of justice 
and equity, that it Avas his turn to go to church 
with Miss Lindsay. Yet she was holding him 
off for no better reason, as he could not help 
knowing, than that she was scheming for some 
one else. 

will let you know in good time — Saturday 
at latest, and if I find I have an engagement,^’ 
she said, all sweetness, ^Vhy, I Avill send him 
off early, and see you for a little visit after- 
Avard.” 

Comes said nothing, and she did not dream 
he had not accepted the sugar-plum as ac- 
quiescingly as usual. He Avas, on the contrary, 
in a wordless rage. He Avould, doubtless, have 
gone straight to the saloon, as he had done too 
often of late, if he had not, fortunately, met Effie 
Blair. Mr. Comes had never been anything of 
a ladies’ man, and knew Effie only in the most 
formal manner incident to the customary invita- 


The Ivy Vine. 


277 


tions and duty calls at the President’s house. 
Effie, while not pretty, had a dignity and grace 
of carriage, and a sweet graciousness of manner, 
which atoned for the lack. She Avas looking un- 
commonly well this afternoon, and, under a sud- 
den impulse, he turned and caught step Avith her, 
and alloAA^ed her to talk him into a good humor 
by the time they reached her door. 

On Saturday afternoon Brent handed him a 
note from Miss Lindsay, claiming an engage- 
ment Avith him for Sunday night, as she had 
been able to stave off the other one in his 
favor. 

An unreadable smile flashed under cover of 
his black eyes and black moustache. ^Tor once 
the Avorm has not Avaited to be trodden on by 
her august queenship,” he muttered, grumly. 

Brent Avas shining his shoes A\dth his accus- 
tomed Kentucky vim, his thoughts busy in unre- 
corded seas, so that this first remark fell un- 
heeded. 

^‘Bussell, do you knoAV,” began Comes, in a 
spasm of passionate vehemence, believe Kan- 
nie Lindsay intends to marry Professor Carter 
if she can get him, and throAv all the rest of us 
overboard Avithout compunction !” 

Bussell looked up quickly, a tAvinkle of amuse- 
ment in his steel-gray orbs. 


278 


The Ivy Vine. 


fact, she had the cheek to intimate as 
much to me the other day/’ Comes continued, 
coloring under the steel-gray scrutiny before 
which his dark glance fell. 

^^It can be only well we should know the 
ground we stand on,” his companion answered 
gravely, bending again to his task, while his 
heavy moustache gave no hint of amusement. 

Comes sat gazing mutely at the dainty billet- 
doux in his hand. Presently, ^^Will you be there 
to-night 

^^Yes.” 

He drew up to the table then and Avrote: 
^^Sorry you should have broken anybody’s heart 
to accommodate me, especially as I have another 
engagement for Sunday night, which I cannot 
break.” 

He was perfectly sure it was the Professor 
she had been angling for, and though she had 
apparently failed this time, he was still madly 
jealous of him. If he had suddenly looked up 
and caught the humor of Russell’s smile fixed 
on him, it might have diverted him somewhat. 
Put he did not. He Avas making up his mind 
not to see Hannie until after Sunday night. 
Nevertheless, ten o’clock found him irresistibly 
impelled in that direction. Lights and voices 
warned him the parlor was still fulL He could 




The Ivy Vine. 


279 


hear EusselFs hearty laugh, and did not care 
to risk his ridicule, lie walked round the square 
and came back again. As there was no response 
to his listening ear, he climbed the honeysuckle 
frame and peeped in the side window. Russell 
was still there, standing face to face with her; 
the rest gone. As Comes descended from his 
post, in cat-like quietude, he heard, ^‘Don’t ask 
me, 17annie. I never did a dishonorable thing 
in my life. J had no business to mention it, but 
it was too good a joke to keep.’’ 

^^She does not appear much distressed over my 
defection; why should I be miserable!” mused 
Comes. ^‘Perhaps I have only played into her 
hands, and she has secured the Professor, after 
all.” One thing puzzled him. There was no 
doubt Russell Brent, for all his spasmodic devo- 
tion to Berta Blair, was as deeply in love with 
Xannie as himself. How, then, could he be so 
well satisfied to see her drifting away from 
him !” Another stroll up and down the square 
brought him back just as Russell passed out of 
the gate, and he had joined Hannie before she 
closed the door. 

She extended her hand without the slightest 
surprise. knew you would come,” she said, 
sweetly, ^Tor all Russell said you wouldn’t.” 

^AVhy did he say that ?” 


280 


The Ivy Vine. 


asked if you were not coming, and he 
handed me your note, and said ^no.’ 

^^Umph ! what else did he say of me recol- 
lecting what he had heard. 

Something in his tone and the darkening face 
startled her. 

^^E’othing,’^ she said, indifferently, but she 
could not stay the tell-tale flush of consciousness. 

^‘You had better tell me he warned, sharply. 

If she held a power of fascination over him, 
so did he over her, and at this moment he re- 
minded her of a magniflcent thoroughbred with 
the bit between his teeth. 

^‘What a grand creature you are !’’ she cried, 
impulsively, fear lost in admiration. 

He smiled. Then sat down and talked 
placidly for the next flfteen minutes. Then he 
arose. ^‘You must tell me what Hussell said 
about me,’’ he said, resolutely. 

She tried to evade him, but he still held the 
bit in his teeth. 

^^He only said you had gotten into a regular 
school-boy tantrum over my note ; that was all,” 
she murmured, weakly yielding. 

^^Did you believe him, and help him laugh at 
me ?” he muttered, crushing her hand in the 
fierce softness of his. 

^Tf I did,” and she threw back her head and 


281 


The Ivy Vine. 

gazed iTp into his eyes, ^^it was to me only a 
proof of yonr love.’’ 

He softened, and the blue devils fled, as usual, 
at her touch. 

^^Still, it was a mean thing for Russell to 
speak of me in that way to any young lady, and 
he my professed friend,” he said to himself on 
the way home. am glad it is not he that is to 
take my place to-morrow night. I can better 
endure to see the Professor there this time.” 

The engagement made with Effie Blair in a 
freak of jealousy had been a haunting dread. 
Yet he was to find, as he had found before, that 
she was uncommonly good company, and could 
make him, for the time, forget and be his most 
charming self. 

As they entered the church door, whom should 
they see in front of them but Russell Brent with 
R’annie Lindsay. 

The dark Spanish face flamed. The black 
eyes blazed. 

Effie did not see, nor did the couple in 
front; only Uncle Eelix noticed, wondered and 
watched. 

Comes went beyond the other two, seated Effie, 
and chatted awhile, then said coolly, ^^By the 
way, will you excuse me a moment ? I must 
speak to a friend.” 


282 


The Ivy Vine. 


He walked back, and, touching Kussell on the 
shoulder, murmured, word with you and 
stalked on to the door. 

^^Pray for me Russell whispered, too lightly 
by far for the words, and followed him. 

Five minutes later, as the minister’s voice 
rose in invocation for God’s mercy and blessing, 
a pistol shot rang out from under the window 
where Hannie Lindsay sat, and shivered the still 
atmosphere of the quiet, orderly town and con- 
gregation into fragments of bewildered terror. 


CIIAPTEK XXVII. 


Bitter Berries. 

C OMES was one of the few young men 
whom Uncle Felix did not know. He 
rarely needed to seek them. His store, Avhich 
had now beccme the book-store of the place, was 
so bright and attractive, and supplied them with 
so many of the necessities of student life, they 
naturally fell into the habit of dropping in for 
purchases, and remaining to loaf, giving the 
owner many opportunities for personal talk, 
tender, impressive little lectures, and wise, 
wholesome advice. 

But Mr. Comes had rather fought shy. He 
honght briefly, and departed promptly. Yet 
Mr. Graham had often followed his dark, hand- 
some face, with its possibilities of good and evil, 
in fatherly yearning. Being a close observer, 
he made a special note of the face that Sunday 
night as it passed him. He thought he detected 
a danger signal. When, later, the young man 
went back toward the door, followed by the very 
person who had apparently excited his ire. 
Uncle Felix yielded to the impulse to keep them 
in sight. 


284 


T'he Ivy Vine. 

He chose a safe shadow for his post of ob- 
servation, though it were hardly needed, for 
both Avere toO' self-absorbed to care if a dozen 
policemen Avere dogging their steps. Mr. Gra- 
ham could not hear the Avords, nor did he care 
to, but, presently, by a narroAv band of light 
from the church Avindow, he saAV Russelhs cool, 
courteous face flash into sudden fury, his hand 
involuntarily going back to his pistol pocket. 
Instantly a small stiletto flashed into- sight in 
Comes’ clutch, and Uncle Felix stepped betAveen 
them, and threAv up both right hands, though not 
in time wholly to divert their deadly aim. The 
bullet Avent into Comes’ head, and the stiletto, 
in glancing, made an ugly gash above Eussell’s 
heart. 

At the report of the pistol the congregation 
scattered in Avild confusion. Eflie, glancing 
back toAvard the AvindoAV Avhence the sound had 
come, happened to catch sight of Hannie Lind- 
say Avith a face of pitiful agony, and quivering 
from head to foot like a storm-beset leaf. 

Xo one else seeinmg to notice her, Effie Avent 
quickly to her, and tried to quiet her excitement 
Avith soothing Avords. But FTannie clutched her 
flercely, and Avith a fearful distrait glare of the 
eye, AAdiispered, ^^He’s killed him! he’s killed 
him ! I don’t knoAv AAdiich, but one of them lies 


The Ivy Vine. 


285 


dead under the church window, and whichever it 
is it is all inv fault. Did I kill him ? N'o, no, not 
I!’’ Then, dropping her voice, ^^Yes, one is 
dead, and it is all my fault!” 

These words she kept repeating with low, in- 
coherent mutterings, which greatly alarmed 
Effie. Everybody was wild with excitement and 
uncertainty; there was nobody to whom she 
coidd appeal for help. Effie put her arm around 
her, seeking, by her own enforced calmness to 
bring the poor girl back to herself, but her mind 
was evidently reeling Avith the shock. Effie was 
glad enough to see Prof. Carter approaching, at 
length, and greatly relieved to have his assist- 
ance in getting her charge home. T^or could 
they leave her then. Her mother was so over- 
come by her appearance and condition as to be 
of very little account, and Effie Avas unwilling 
to leaA^e the Avhole burden on little Selina. 

While Prof. Carter Avent in search of a doctor, 
Effie and Selina managed to get Hannie to bed, 
and Avith cold applications to allay someAvhat 
the fierce fever of the brain. 

The tAvo young men had been carried across 
the street to Mr. Graham’s back room. There 
tAA^o eminent surgeons, summoned in all haste 
from Lynchburg, Avith Dr. Baylor, had done 
Avhatever could be done for them. It was de- 


286 


The Ivy Vine. 


cided not best to reinoA^e Mr. Comes. He was 
still unconscions, and life apparently a question 
of moments. In fact for three weeks the three 
lives hung by a thread over the portals of death, 
and a corresponding gloom pervaded the town. 

llussell was the first to begin to improve. He 
gave a perfectly clear and truthful account of 
the whole affair to those whose business it was 
to know. He made no excuses for himself, ex- 
cept to aver that nobody could have been more 
surprised at the denouement than himself. As 
for his being armed, he had put on his pistol 
with his clothes ever since he was a small boy. 
^‘You must remember,’^ he said, ^Sve Kentuck- 
ians are a little closer to our pioneer days than 
these good people here, and have never gotten 
beyond the habit of going armed for any emer- 
gency. Comes, if he should recover his con- 
sciousness, could bear me witness of this. Dear 
old fellow ! nothing was farther from my 
thoughts than to kill him until he said what no 
man--least of all, a Kentuckian — would pass 
unchallenged from — man or devil,’’ he added, 
with the memory of Comes’ face, as he threw 
the vicious vituperative at him. 

Comes did not lack care albeit in a bachelor’s 
den. He had no near relative living, but his 
guardian wrote that he should be supplied with 


The Ivy Vine. 


287 


every comfort and assistance wliicli money could 
j^ay for. He Avas the unconscious recipient of 
infinitely more. Hardly a mother’s tenderness 
could have exceeded that Avith Avhich Uncle 
Felix hovered about him night and day, Avatch- 
ing every movement of the body, every change 
in the face, anticipating every Avant. 

Mr. Graham had often fretted his imagina- 
tion Avith Avondering Avhere he could have seen 
that face before. It had come to him noAv. It 
Avas, in every lineament, the face of the man 
Avho had, in the long ago, married the Avoman 
he liad loA^ed. And this Avas undoubtedly her 
child. 

Many an hour he knelt beside his bed, his lips 
murmuring loAV-voiced petitions, not noAV for a 
stranger, Avhose personality had mysteriously 
impressed him, but for one AAFose soul Avas 
bound to his soul by indissoluble bands. He 
Avas pleading that the life might be giA'-en back 
to him, that so he might Avin the precious soul 
for his Master, and back to his mother’s God. 

After Aveary days of the best medical atten- 
tion, and the most faithful nursing, his con- 
sciousness began to straggle back. Sometimes 
he va^iely murmured Avords of Avooing to the 
girl he loved, so intensely Avinsome his listener 
no longer AA^ondered his OAAm SAveetheart had been 


288 


The Ivy Vine. 


won away from him by similar love-making; 
anon he would break forth in hitter invective 
against all other lovers. Never a word of re- 
proach for her, except this, one day, in a weary, 
pathetic wail, ^^Why cannot you be content with 
me as I with you? Anyhow, I know you love 
me, and I can wait.’’ Later, memory struggled 
to recover its hold. The incidents of Saturday 
and Sunday night passed into speech in a dim, 
repetitive procession. Russell’s name was often 
mentioned; almost invariably in entire friend- 
liness, except in connection with the last act. 
One morning. Uncle Felix ventured to leave 
him for a few moments, to go to the assistance 
of his young helper in the store. When he 
returned to his post, there was fullest conscious- 
ness and surprise in the brilliant black eyes 
which met his, and the patient gentleness of 
long sick helplessness. There was also a re- 
minder of his mother in them. Mr. Graham sat 
dowm beside him, and turned his own eyes away 
to hide their suspicious moisture. 

^^How happens it that I am trespassing on 
your hospitality? What has happened to me, 
can you tell ?” His smile was pleasantly apolo- 
getic, but back of it was the old incisive keen- 
ness of inquiry. 

^Wes, something did happen to you,” Uncle 


The Ivy Vine, 


289 


Felix answered, cautiously, ^^you became uncon- 
scious from an accident, and were brought here 
because my little den chanced to be convenient. 
I hope you find it moderately comfortable 

The young man looked around with a pleased 
gratitude, easily guessing how much had been 
done to make it so for him, and, for the time, 
he did not press his inquiries, just lay there in 
satisfied enjoyment, watching Mr. Graham as a 
sick child might. Indeed, finding every want 
attended to before he could express it, he felt 
almost as if he were verily a child again, as 
though all the years he would forget had never 
been. He was not trying to remember anything 
now. He had a feeling it were better, for the 
present at least, to accept whatever Mr. Graham 
told him as all there was to tell, and not to spec- 
ulate on forbidden grounds. It was well for 
him, indeed. He would need to be strong and 
clear-headed when justice came to ask, ^^Where- 
fore didst thou seek the life of thy brother 
Uncle Felix was to have many quiet days with 
him ere that, reaching down into his confidence 
with his kind old heart, and his well-timed 
words. 

More distressing than that of Comes was the 
case of Hannie Lindsay. 

Mrs. Wallace and Mrs. McBride came 
19 


290 


The Ivy Vine. 


promptly to share the nursing, hut the Ivy 
Leaves felt as if the sick girl were their peculiar 
charge. It was impossible, by any known means, 
to break her fever. The only change was from a 
dull stupor to the wildest raving. All through 
her delirium, the wail of remorseful conscience 
was something terrible. The conquests in which 
she had so gloried were now her imps of torture. 

loved him, yet I killed him ! Oh ! Comes, 
was it you who died, or Russell ? Poor Russell, 
I didn’t dream he cared so much ! And just to 
think there are thirty of them, and they will all 
kill each other — and I will be thirty murderers ! 
Oh ! just to think, there were thirty of them. 
I let each one think I loved him, and the one I 
loved I killed ! Oh ! Comes, could you come 
back to me, I’d be so true !” This with passion- 
ate tenderness. Then she would begin, and 
name them one by one, and laugh in hollow 
mockery of merriment. This went on day after 
day, and night after night. 

Prof. Carter came every day to inquire for 
her. It so happened, one evening in the midst 
of her ravings, she seemed to hear his voice, 
and called his name so distinctly he could not 
help hearing it. Involuntarily, he stepped 
nearer, pleased to hear his name uttered in her 


voice. 


The Ivy Vine. 


291 


was the big gun/’ she went on flippantly, 

used all the rest to help me make that dull 
old professor say he loved me. If he had only 
asked me, I would have married him, though I 
loved Comes — only Comes — I loved him, and 
yet I’ve killed him — oh ! why don’t somebody 
stop those pistol shots ? they are firing right 
through my head, and nobody cares, because 
I’ve shot thirty of them. I killed them with 
my pretty face and honied words, and they are 
all firing at me — all thirty of them.” 

The Professor had heard too much, and had 
suddenly departed. He came only once after- 
wards, and then made his inquiries briefly and 
formally. 

At the very last one brief lucid interval oc- 
curred. All the older girls had been taking their 
turn to sit with her during the day. Hannie 
smiled, as if gratified to find Virgie and Effie 
with her at this time. ^^You are very good to 
come and help mamma to nurse me,” with a 
touching humility, adding, ^‘Tell me the truth, 
won’t you. Which of the young men was 
killed ?” 

The girls were glad to be able to assure her 
that they were both in a fair way to recover. 

^Wes, they will live, but I must die. But 
it is better so — far better — for them — for all. I 


292 


The Ivy Vine. 


would like to see Mr. Comes once more — if I 
could — but it is getting dark again already.’’ 
Then, laying her hand on Virgie’s, she gazed 
earnestly into her eyes, and said, ^^Tell the 
girls — all of you — who were so good to me — ^to 
take warning — from me, and — be satisfied with 
the love of one good man.” Almost immediately 
she fell into a stupor and sank rapidly. 

Mr. Comes insisted upon coming to see her 
the next morning, hut she showed no sign of 
recognition, and before night she was dead. 

' These incidents produced a profound im- 
pression on the young people of the town and 
on the students. 

When the trial came on, it was promptly dis- 
missed, as there had been no death, and the 
young men had each had a lesson which would 
diminish the probability of one in the future. 

J^annie’s death was a bitter blow to Selina. 
And while she could not believe any harm of 
her beautiful sister, nor understand the self- 
accnsing strain of her mutterings in the delirium 
of fever, nor suspect any connection between her 
death and the fight between two students, still 
there was a vague discontent, if not an actual 
heartache, in the memory of those last days. All 
she could do in self-sacrificing ministry had 
failed to bring comfort to the patient or to her- 


The Ivy Vine. 


293 


self. Her sorrow hung over her in a pathetic, 
uncomplaining patience, as though she had lost 
all that made such self-sacrifice worth while. 

The girls of the Ivy Vine, who had taken such 
an interest in her all along, felt the deepest sym- 
pathy. And, as they could think of nothing else 
to do, invited her to become an Ivy Leaf. 

^Terhaps it will comfort her,’’ said Estelle, 
^To try to help and comfort others.” 


CHAPTEE XXVIII. 


Water for the Thirsty Leaves. 


“As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from 
a far country.” — Proverbs. 



STELLE was a rather popular girl in a 


J— J quiet way. That is to say, everybody 
liked her, chiefly because she had but little self- 
assertion, and rarely spoke unkindly of any one. 
l^et, she was a girl of few friendships, and those 
few were uncommonly strong. 

Xobody knew — she was scarcely conscious 
herself, how much she had missed Hugh Baylor. 
He and Olive had been like a single friendship 
to her, so closely linked were they in her 
thoughts. Xow, a part of that friendship had 
been torn away, and the thought of him, instead 
of adding pleasure, as hitherto, left a burden, a 
troubled sigh. 

She had tried her very best to be faithful to 
his behest. Like a doleful refrain, his words 
rang continually in her ears, ^^Comfort Olive 
for my sake; take care of her in my place.” 
But, instead of drawing closer together, as would 
have seemed natural, some intangible restraint 


The Ivy Vine. 


295 


barred the old intimacy. Was it the confidence 
he had reposed in her, and withheld from his 
sister ? or was it some failure on her part ? -or 
wasdt that her place was being filled by others ? 

Estelle was as faithful as ever, and tried to be 
just the same, but her heart had a chronic ache 
for tli-e account she would have to render to 
Hugh, if she should ever see him again. 

As for Olive, her health had greatly improved 
of late. She was, in fact, well, though not per- 
haps as sturdy and all-enduring as in her earlier 
girlhood. She was more like her old, bright, 
jolly self than she had been since the fire, except 
for the unaccountable restraint between herself 
and Estelle. The strangest part of it was that 
she rarely ever mentioned Hugh when alone with 
Estelle, and feeling this limitation painfully, 
Estelle would not mention him. Consequently, 
she missed all the news from him save an occa- 
sional item casually dropped by some member 
of the family. In this incidental fashion, she 
had learned of his meeting one of the old stu- 
dents at San Francisco, who had gotten him 
into a position in business at once; that tiring 
of city life, he had gone into the interior to try 
fruit-raising ; , later still, that he was back in 
Trisco. Estelle felt the need of these two 
friends, all the more at this time, because of 


296 


The Ivy Vine. 


Agues’ absence. Berta and Effie Blair were at 
home, and so glad to be at home it was a pleasure 
to be with them, and they were picking up their 
interest in the Vine beautifully. Estelle had 
always been fond of these girls, especially of 
Effie, and would have enjoyed her particularly 
this winter, except that in the existing coolness 
between herself and Olive, she Avould not permit 
herself to shoAv any preference for Effie Avhich 
could possibly be construed into disloyalty to 
Olive, or into giving the second place to her. 
Yet, Avhile this discontent and depression Avere 
secretly preying upon Estelle, outAvardly she was 
participating in all the good times the young 
people AAwe having, and nobody suspected any- 
thing amiss, unless, perhaps. Uncle Eelix’s sharp 
eyes. 

^Ut has been just a year to-day since Hugh 
left; it seems like ten,” Estelle said to herself 
one Monday morning. The Sunday night’s dis- 
appointment, and the next morning’s blank, 
came back to her as vividly as though it had 
been but a day. Uncomfortably restless under 
the memories, she got her hat and Avent out. 
She had not gone far before she met her father 
returning Avith the mail. 

^^Any letters for me?” she asked, seeing he 
had a pretty good handful. 


The Ivy Vine. 


297 


He looked over them and handed her one. 
Her heart gave a bound. It was from Hugh. 
She hurried home and stole off to herself to read 
it. How like himself it was from date to final 
line. 

am sure you expected to hear from me long- 
ago, and truly I intended to write. But I was 
too utterly miserable in those days to impose 
myself upon so good a friend as you have been 
to me. I knew I could trust you, and I am glad 
you have never betrayed my unfortunate love 
affair. Olive is foolish about me, and could not 
have found as much content in father’s marriage 
if she had known what it cost me. 

cannot say I have gotten entirely over my 
disappointment, for although I can plainly see 
Olive has gotten more of what I wanted to give 
her through father than she would have done 
through me, still the time is not yet when I 
care to come back and see. I have never been 
able to give a very satisfactory reason to Olive 
for my sudden departure, because she knows 
nobody in the world cared less for travel, sight- 
seeing or adventure than I. I told her I thought 
I needed to be shaken out of my nest of ease and 
self-indulgence, and it seemed a good point in 
my life to experiment in that direction, all of 
which was very true, if not, strictly speaking, 
the whole truth. 


298 


The Ivy Vine. 


^^But I must tell you something of my life 
and doings’ if I can find anything worth telling 
which has not already been reported to you from 
the home letters. The position I first secured 
Avas book-keeping. But I found it did not suffi- 
ciently occupy my mind. fTowever, tliere is 
plenty of room for ^a' nice young man/ so I had 
no difficulty in finding more active employment 
in the country among the fruit-growers. 

^^This is a young city and groAving rapidly. 
Many of the people came from the older parts of 
the country, and are as nice as any at home. I 
have made the acquaintance of one or tAvo de- 
lightful families. Still, they are not my OAvn 
people, and — Tell it not in Gath’ — I get AA^ofully 
homesick sometimes. I have never hinted this 
in Avriting home. Nor have I eA^er told them 
hoAV I happened to go on that trip to the mines 
last summer, merely left tliem to surmise it Avas 
in the line I had marked out for myself of seeing 
the Avorld and experiencing some of its hard- 
ships. The truth is this. One afternoon after 
business hours, being in a particularly homesick 
mood, I strolled doAvn toAvard the station, half 
minded to take the train for home. As I stood 
there listlessly Avatching the passengers getting 
off and on, a familiar face caught my eye in a 
croAvd. Strange to say, a thought of you flashed 


The Ivy Vine. 


299 


into my mind. Yet it seemed incredible I conld 
find even a flashlight of resemhlanoe to yon 
among that group of rongh Western men — not 
a woman among them of any description. At 
that moment the train whistled and was off, and 
I had to carry my puzzlement to my room with 
me. I worried oyer it all evening until sleep 
overtook me, and this was about the result of my 
cogitations. It is wonderful what our imagina- 
tions can Aveave out of even so slight a thread. 
There never Avas hut one person in the Avorld 
Avho had the slightest shadoAV of likeness to you, 
and that Avas Julian. That thought carried me 
back to the Are and the mystery of his disappear- 
ance. T have at times strongly suspected Olive, 
and perhaps you, did not believe he Avas burned 
then ; and, because it AA^as the least horrible, I 
did not try to disprove it Avith OHa^c ; in fact, 
you remember Ave Avere obliged, by every possible 
means, to ke6p her from thinking of the fire 
because the excitement affected .her so alarm- 
ingly. After catching a glimpse of that face 
in the croAA’d, and thinking it all over, I came 
to the conclusion it Avas a possibility he liA^ed, 
though I could not eA^en imagine a reason for 
his absenting himself from home at that time 
and in that mysterious Avay. On the strength 
of this conclusion, I made arrangements Avith 


300 


The Ivy Vine. 


my business firm (I was still book-keeping at 
that time), who had some interest in these mines, 
to take a short trip thither, and started the next 
day. I stayed there two weeks, saw every man 
in any way connected with the mines, but having 
transacted the business of the company, was 
obliged to return with the conclusion my imagi- 
nation had played me false, and an optical illu- 
sion had led me on a fool’s errand. Even this 
delusive reminder of your face made me so 
dreadfully homesick for the sight of it, I came* 
near writing to you that night. I was very 
glad afterward I did not. But this is not the 
end of the story. Estelle, what will you think 
if I tell you I am almost positively sure I have 
seen Julian, and that he is alive and hereabouts ? 
Somewhere, though very mirageical and difficult 
to locate ! 

^‘1 saw the same face again yesterday, in a 
crowd as before; but if it was not Julian, it 
Avas somebody marvellously like him. Yet I 
cannot get my hand on him. I had no sooner 
seen him than he was as irrevocably lost again, 
as if he had sunk into the ground. However, 
as I said before, ’Frisco is not a very big place, 
and now that I am stationed here again, it Avill 
be hard if 1 do not find him, or the man like 
him, for I will explore every house and business 


The Ivy Vine. 


301 


place in town if necessary. As it is still so un- 
certain and chimerical, perhaps it will he as well 
not to mention what I have told you, especially 
to Olive. I think she imagined herself in some 
measure responsible for his death, if the case 
were so, and the most casual mention of his name 
was more than she could bear. I would not for 
anything excite hopes which might have to be 
disappointed. You must not think I have no 
feeling for you, to he tempting you with these 
hopes with such slim foundation; but, really, 
I feel so certain this time I could not help tell- 
ing somebody, and since I have had to spare 
Olive, whom should I tell, if not you ? It touches 
you more nearly than any one else ; but, unlike 
Olive, you are well and strong, and you never 
did have any nonsense about you. In short, you 
are the friend in need on whom one always de- 
pends. On second thought, suppose you tell 
Uncle Felix. I would like to have his prayers 
to help me in this search — to help me find 
Julian, if he be alive and here. For even if this 
face I have seen proves to he not his, I think I 
shall always believe he may be alive, and be 
continually looking for him. And now, Estelle, 
once more forgive me for calling on you to share 
my suspense and uncertainty. And, having re- 
tasted the comfort of an occasional chat with 


J 


302 The Ivy Vine. 

you, even on paper, I donbt if I can forego tlie 
pleasure of indulging repeatedly, if yon Avill 
show me, by answering, that it is not an iin- 
jwsition. Has Olive ever mentioned Julian to 
von since the dav it came so near brinedng on 
a convulsion ? If not, yon might, if yon think 
best, some time when alone with her, remove the 
embargo and see how she takes it, and how she 
feels about him now. But do be careful. How- 
ever, I know yon will be, Avithout any charge 
from me.’’ 


CHAPTEE XXIX. 


Striking Eoot in Xew Ground. 

A gatha Wallace was uttie Agatha 

still, for even Annie had outgrown her 
in height. She had the same fair face and 
golden hair, the same blue eyes and guileless 
expression, as had the little girl whom Effie had 
rescued from the cloud-burst opposite their side- 
door some years before. She was a charming 
girl, just budding into a beautiful womanhood. 

It was the latter part of the summer, and 
they all sat on the porch in the cool of the eve- 
ning. A letter had been passing around the 
circle, and left a perceptible shadow wherever 
it paused. 

^Toor dear Uncle Agatha exclaimed, drop- 
ping it into her lap, after reading. Several sighs 
echoed her words as she added, ^Ut must be too 
doleful for anything in the world ! Think of 
those wee tots all alone in the house, for, of 
course, he has to leave them sometimes, and 
actually taking one-year-old Sammy up into the 
pulpit with him, because there was no one to 
look after the child.’’ A pause. ^Alamma 


304 


The Ivy Vine. 


doesn’t really need all three of us/’ reflectively. 
^‘It does seem as if one of us ought to go !” To 
this there was no responsive echo. 

Lucille had long ago transferred her home 
duties and responsibilities to the household of 
her husband, as was only right she should. 

^^Virgie ought to go; she is next oldest,” 
Agatha was saying to herself, but a simple, 
every-day movement of her mother’s, handing 
her key-basket to Yirgie to attend to supper, re- 
buked the thought. 

^‘Xo, not Virgie; mamma could not do with- 
out lier. She has always said she was going 
to be the one to stay at home and take care of 
mamma, and she has already succeeded in mak- 
ing herself indispensable.” 

Agatha drew a long breathed sigh, for Annie 
had still two years of study, and, besides, was 
too young, and there was nobody else except her- 
self. ^AVhy cannot Uncle get another wife ? 
men often do,” was her rather petulant thought, 
as she tried to forget the whole matter. It was 
very true her uncle had not once asked for any 
one to come. 

The next week’s letter was more pathetic than 
ever. ToAvard the close of it, Mrs. Wallace 
turned her back to the family with a suspicious 
choke in her voice, and hurried out to the 


The Ivy Vine. 


305 


kitchen. This was more than Agatha conld 
stand. She answered the letter herself that very 
day, offering to come and do the best she could 
for the little ones, as long as she should be 
needed. 

It was no small sacrifice, as any girl will 
understand, to resign the good times of a college 
town, for Avhich they were already planning with 
all the eager zest of young ladyhood, for a bur- 
den of unusual care and responsibility in a quiet 
country neighborhood, where ^^there will not, 
most likely, he a soul one will care to know.’’ 

You see, Agatha had forgotten all about their 
own life in the country, and though the time 
had hardly come for lovers and beaux, still, at 
times, in a dreamy, wistful way, she seemed to 
hear the clanking of knightly spurs in the dim 
distance, — to see, afar off, the air filled with the 
dust of an approaching destiny. Sure, it would 
pass her by unrecognized in the lonely solitude 
her uncle described. 

Her uncle greatly feared she had made her 
offer without full knowledge of what was before 
her, and would, consequently, find herself un- 
happy in the endurance. Hence, in writing, he 
put the worse face on everything, by way of pre- 
paring her. 

^^And you will not be here for the ^Thanky- 
20 


306 


The Ivy Vine. 


tea/ exclaimed Berta and Effie, who had 
always felt a proprietary claim upon little 
Agatha by right of discovery. ^^You were to 
have had your invitation this fall, and we had 
been thinking what a charming little debutante 
you would be 

^^Oh ! thanks for the roses/’ she laughed, a 
veritable pink bud herself, with an unadmitted 
dewdrop in the blue depths of her eyes. ^^By 
next year Annie can take my place.” 

Berta and Effie hunted up all the interesting 
books they could find for her, and promised to 
keep up a brisk correspondence with regard to 
affairs of the Ivy Vine, and social events. 

^^But I am so sorry you have to go,” Effie said, 
clinging to her little friend with the warmest 
affection. 

When the time came to start, Agatha almost 
felt as if she were going to he a missionary to 
some heathen land, her girl friends expressed so 
much sympathy, and the young men who had 
gotten back condoled with her so feelingly and 
so solemnly. 

^^It is a comfort to know you are all going 
to have such a good time without me,” she tried 
to say, laughingly, to those who had gathered to 
say good-bye, but before the words were well 
out of her mouth she broke down in a sob on her 


The Ivy Vine. 


307 


mother’s shoulder. However, she quickly re- 
gained her self-control, and went off bravely. 

The trip was a day and night on the canal- 
boat, a primitive mode of travel ; but for a long 
time the only choice one had in leaving Bridge- 
ton was between the boat and the stage-coach, 
the latter meeting the train at the nearest point 
of approach to the town. In this case there was 
no choice. However, the small cabin sitting- 
room was not so bad, and there were so few other 
passengers, Agatha did not hesitate to appro- 
priate the privileged rocking-chair. When she 
tired of the garrulousness of the neat young 
cabin maid, she took refuge in her book or her 
own thoughts. 

At Lynchburg, a gentleman with two little 
girls got on the boat. The children were very 
lovely, and attracted Agatha at once. There 
was something pathetic about them, including 
the black ribbon on their hats, which made her 
think of Uncle John’s desolate brood, and won- 
der if these also had lost their mother. Her 
heart went out to them with the thought, and 
when the children came down to store away their 
satchel and basket, wraps, etc., she laid aside 
her book and helped them to find the best place, 
then tried to draw them into oonversation. To 
her disappointment, she found their father was 


308 


The Ivy Vine. 


waiting to take them back on deck. ^^It is much 
nicer up there/’ they told her, and urged her to 
go up with them. But, as she was alone, and 
they in party, she excused herself. More than 
once afterward she wished she could be with 
them, for the cabin grew lonely with the night- 
fall, and the longing for home was almost un- 
endurable. AVhen the moon rose, Avith its well- 
nigh daylight brightness, and Agatha had looked 
longingly from the little cabin Avindow, and Avas 
about to go to bed to keep from Avishing she 
Avas , enjoying the moonlight on the porch at 
home, the older of the tA\’o little girls came trip- 
ping down the stairAvay again to tell her, ^^Papa 
says you Avill find it refreshing to come up on 
deck a Avhile before retiring.” Without further 
hesitation, she folloAved the child up the ladder- 
like stairAvay. The gentleman came forward 
AAdtli a chair, Avhich he placed close to those 
occupied by the children, and then, Avith a defer- 
ential boAV in response to the little girl’s, ^^Papa 
this is the lady,” he went back to his paper and 
the captain, without Avaiting, or apparently car- 
ing, to know Agatha’s name or to have her knoAV 
his. The children chatted ceaselessly of every- 
thing they passed or thought of, looking up occa- 
sionally to see if she Avere listening or interested. 
They did not tell her in so many words their 


The Ivy Vine. 


309 


motlier was dead, but there was about them an 
air of we-have-to-take-care-of-ourselves, which 
indicated the fact most touchingly. 

The country through which they were passing 
was lovely, with its brooding monotony of peace 
only broken by the shrill boat-horn, announcing 
the approach to a lock. Getting into the lock 
through the big, heavy gates, bumping down to 
a new level, and sailing out again, was a most 
interesting performance to the children, includ- 
ing Agatha, and it seemed very wonderful to 
look back and see the water over which they had 
travelled high up above their heads. 

The night air Avas delicious, but the father 
presently called to Lallie it was time to go to 
bed, and all three went down together. 

The little girls were quite independent, had 
learned how to help each other to do what they 
could not do for themselves, and soon stood, 
Avhite-robed and bare-footed, beside their berth. 
They had their heads together Avhispering in 
rather anxious consultation. Agatha Avas too 
close to childhood herself not to comprehend and 
appreciate its small dilemmas. There Avas but 
one thing more to do before being ready to lay 
their heads doAvn upon the pillow, and they did 
not knoAV if it Avas just the thing to ^^say their 
prayers’^ in so public a place. 


310 


The Ivy Vine. 


Agatlia, without seeming to notice, got up and 
quietly drew together the curtain which divided 
their little cabin room from the rest of the 
world; then, without waiting to he entirely 
ready for her own devotions, knelt reverently 
beside her berth. The little girls instantly fol- 
lowed her example, and went to bed happy, 
while Agatha felt a little glow of thankfulness 
in her own heart for this privilege of helping 
God’s little ones on the threshold of her new 
life. Early the next morning they reached the 
lock, where her uncle was to meet her. To her 
surprise she found her little travelling com- 
panions were getting olf there also. But' — ^The 
country is a large place,” she thought, and told 
them good-bye, fully realizing the unlikelihood 
of ever meeting them again. 

Her uncle’s warm greeting, and the distress- 
ing womanless appearance of everything about 
the house, especially the three forlorn little 
figures who crept shyly to her side within the 
first half-hour, soon made her forget her tran- 
sient interest in the little strangers, and did 
much to reconcile her to the sacrifices she had 
made, and the exile from her own bright home. 

And now that she is there, what shall she do ? 
Shall she be content with keeping the house, 
mending the clothes, darning the little stockings. 


The Ivy Vine. 


311 


washing hands and faces and watching to see 
that no accidents occur during her uncle’s ab- 
sence? That Avould have been inuch to father 
and children. But Agatha Wallace never did 
things by halves. Her favorite text was, ^^What- 
soever ye do, do it heartily as to the Lord,” and 
she had come, not simply to satisfy her con- 
science and gratify her mother, but with full 
purpose of making a happy home for her mother- 
less little cousins, and doing them all the good 
she could. 

More than that, she soon found herself telling 
the young people of her uncle’s congregation of 
the Ivy Vine at home, and helping them to 
organize one of their own. Then when the 
church organist married off into another State, 
nothing would do but Agatha must take her 
place, for the people had come to think Agatha 
could do most anything. 

By a singular coincidence, the leader of the 
choir was the aunt of her two little travelling 
companions. It was true their mother was dead, 
and at the time she met them their father was 
bringing them to his mother and this sister to 
be taken care of. Miss Cora was about Agatha’s 
age, and they soon became devoted friends. 
Thus Agatha had many opportunities to renew 
her acquaintance with her little friends. 


312 


The Ivy Vine. 


As time wore on, Berta and Effie were rather 
disgusted to find Agatha growing so happy away 
from home, and writing such enthusiastic let- 
ters about the country. ^^It may be,’’ she wrote 
once, ^‘because for the first time in my life I can 
flatter myself I am essential to somebody’s hap- 
piness and comfort. It is very certain, anyway, 
that, except for being away from homefolks and 
friends, I never was happier in my life.” 


CHAPTEK XXX. 


Deifting Back. 

A gatha Wallace had been with her 

nnclc something over a year, and to no 
one year of her life eonld she look hack with 
greater satisfaction. The children were con- 
tented, good, and devotedly attached to her, as 
she was also to them. Moreover, she had learned 
to love these dear, good people of her uncle’s 
congregation, whom she had once thought to find 
so utterly uncongenial. Her work and labor of 
love among them had proved pure pleasure, for 
she had felt sure her help was needed, and 
therefore, she was in the very place God meant 
her to be. But something was the matter this 
calm, sweet. Sabbath morn. 

She sat at the organ as usual, her friend, Cora 
Lenox, beside her, and their five little charges, 
her three and Cora’s two, on the front seat near 
them. Only Agatha’s music had a heavy, som- 
bre sound, out of harmony with the joyous ring 
of Cora’s voice. Evidently, Agatha was not her 
usual happy little self, and the reason of it was. 


314 


The Ivy Vine. 


her uncle had made an announcement the night 
before which had thrown her completely out of 
her bearings. 

As she sat there her loving glance wandered 
lingeringly from one to another of the kindly 
faces before her. How could she leave them and 
return to the aimless life of an ordinary girl — 
dressing for the beaux, going to parties, sleeping 
late in the morning, gossiping over last night’s 
conquests. Once she had looked forward to such 
things as the natural filling of a girl’s existence ; 
now she wondered if one could be happy, really 
happy, without being useful. 

True, she could help her mother, and she 
could work for the Ivy Vine again; but then, 
^hnamma has Virgie — and here is my own Ivy 
Vine, and — that sort of thing is so different 
from knowing that somebody, just three little 
children, depend on you.” 

The misty regrets had gathered into tell-tale 
dewdrops on the long, shadowy lashes. ^^This 
is not the time nor place for such thoughts,” 
she hastily checked herself, ^Tor Uncle has 
already given out the text, and I have not heard 
one word of it.” Yet the very sight of the 
preacher revived her trouble, for — Uncle John 
was going to be married. 

It was actually hard for Agatha to give her 


The Ivy Vine. 


315 


uncle the sympathy he sought in his new happi- 
ness. She caught herself continually passing 
supercritical juclginent on the simplest word or 
act of his intended, though up to this time Cora 
Lenox had been her most intimate friend, a 
fellow-feeling having drawn them wondrously 
close together. Since she knew this friend was 
to take her place — supplant her in the affections 
of her little cousins — she felt actually spiteful, 
much more like condoling with the brother whom 
she was deserting than congratulating her on 
her prospective marriage. In fact, on Monday 
when her uncle finally induced her to go with 
him to see Cora, it stands on record against this 
unreasonable young lady that, instead of the 
usual form of words appropriate on such occa- 
sions, Agatha looked down at the two little girls 
who were clinging to her hands, and murmured, 
in a half-laughing, half-tearful tremble of voice, 
don’t see why you could not be content with 
what you had. These are just as sweet and at- 
tractive as ours !” Then, covered with confusion 
by the burst of merriment which ran round the 
circle, beginning with Mr. Lenox, she ran off 
with the children and took refuge in the grape- 
arbor. There is a tradition among the birds 
who nest and sing among the vines of this same 
arbor that Mr. Lenox followed her thither, and, 


316 


The Ivy Vine. 


by way of consolation, proposed the fair ex- 
change which is no robbery. 

At any rate, when Agatha came home for a 
short visit soon after, she seemed to have en- 
tirely recovered her spirits. She brought her 
friend, Cora Lenox, with her, and they seemed 
equally interested in the vast amount of shop- 
ping that was going on. 

Somebody else w^as coming home, too. Hugh 
had written he was going to succumb to the 
homesickness which had beset him. To Estelle 
he added, ^A^ou and I will talk it over when I 
get there, and decide how long a visit it shall be.’’ 

He did not name the day — it was impossible 
to do so in the then conditions of travel. He 
only said, most likely the first week of Septem- 
ber, and in both letters added, he wanted to find 
Estelle and Olive together. ^^Hoes he know,” 
wondered Estelle, ^‘how^ it stands between us 
since he went away ?” 

Olive frequently came to town in the carriage, 
but she had gotten out of the habit of being 
away from home, and rarely remained all night. 
But she was so overjoyed at the prospect of her 
brother’s return, she did not wait for an invita- 
tion, but herself proposed to come in and spend 
the whole week with Estelle. Eull well she knew 
no one else would be quite so glad as they two. 


The Ivy Vine. 


317 


and the perfect sympathy of anticipation broke 
down the harriers wholesale that had risen np 
between them. They almost forgot those bar- 
riers had ever been, on the days when they went 
down together to the gate to watch for the incom- 
ing stage, and those nights when they lay awake 
for hours talking of Hugh. 

One night when the old, unclouded sympathy 
had been most fully restored, Olive said, ^‘Es- 
telle, do you know I was regularly angry with 
you for sending Hugh olf as you did.’’ 

It was too dark to see Estelle’s face, but Olive 
felt the sudden grip of the hand which held hers, 
and knew Estelle had wheeled toward her in 
surprise or unexpectedness, but she went on, 
knew he cared more for you than for any one 
else, and, though you seemed so unconscious of 
it, I had alwavs hoped, when he came to tell 
you of it, you would not disappoint him — and 
me.” 

^^Why, Olive, what can you mean ?” Estelle 
found voice at length to exclaim. She was on 
her elbow now, gazing into Olive’s dimly out- 
lined face in utter amazement. 

^‘You need not mind my knowing,” Olive 
Avent on, calmly, ignoring Estelle’s, as she 
thought, pretended innocence. have gotten 
over the hurt now, as he seems to have done. 


318 


The Ivy Vine. 


But, Estelle, if he should ask you again, 
please — please say yes. I do not believe I could 
stand it another time, even from you.’’ 

Estelle found breath at last, and , laughed 
softly. ^‘Olive, you don’t know what you are 
talking about. Hugh never cared for me that 
way. We were the best of friends, but I think 
he liked me mostly because I loved you so much. 
If it was anything more, I ought to have known. 
Certain and sure, he never told me so.” And 
then she determinedly diverted the conversation 
into another channel connected with Hugh, but 
at a safe distance from the cause of his de- 
parture. 

Meanwhile the week was slipping by to its 
last days. Friday came, and the stage did not 
stojj ; Saturday, and still it passed on. 

^^Hope deferred maketh the heart sick.” 
Olive’s countenance fell to zero. 

never knew him fail to keep his word be- 
fore,” she bemoaned, tears welling up into her 
eyes. ^^Something has happened, I suppose, and 
I might as well go home and wait until we hear 
from him again.” 

But Estelle would not hear of it. ^^Of course 
something has happened, but it is only delay. 
In such a long trip it would hardly be possible, 
I^should think, to count certainly, even within a 
week.” 


The Ivy Vine, 


319 


^‘Well, I know he will not come Snnday.” 

^^hTo, blit lie may stop over somewhere for 
Sunday, and come on Monday.’’ 

So Olive stayed a while longer. 

Wednesday afternoon they were again at their 
post of observation, under the lilac hushes at 
the front gate. ^‘The very last time,” Olive said. 

told father this morning he might send one 
of the boys in for me to-morrow morning, 
whether Hugh came or not.” 

Just then they both started, for the rumbling 
of the stage-wheels certainly sounded nearer. 
As it turned the corner into sight they seized 
each other by the waist and danced an im- 
promptu jig. It was actually headed towards 
the house. What could that mean, hut that 
Hugh had come. Estelle held Olive tightly, a 
little afraid of the excitement for her, though 
she had been so well all these months. 

A stranger got out first — a tall, bearded fel- 
low, who stood aside awkwardly for a moment, 
then busied himself giving directions to the 
driver. Hugh came forward, both hands ex- 
tended, his dear face beaming with joy. And 
he did not let go of Estelle’s hand, though he 
was holding Olive so close with the other. 

Estelle, with her usual sensitive concern for 
others, was noticing the stranger. She inter- 


320 


The Ivy Vme. 


cepted a wistful glance toward Hugh and Olive, 
and wondered if he had no one to make glad by 
his return. Suddenly Hugh wheeled, with an 
apologetic ejaculation, and beckoned the stranger 
to join him. Estelle started. Did her ears de- 
ceive her ! 

As the tall fellow came forward, he glanced 
yearningly from Olive to Estelle, and from Es- 
telle to Olive. But not until she felt the well- 
remembered grip of untamed strength did Es- 
telle knoAv for certain it was Julian. His rare 
smile revealed and questioned, and she threw 
her arms around his neck, crying out, ^^O Olive, 
it is Julian, too 

Olive had already recognized him, and, realiz- 
ing in his return the answer to lipr prayers and 
the fulfilment of her long-cherished hopes, she 
slipj>ed down to her knees in Hugh’s arms, with 
low words of thanksgiving. 

Julian looked at her in timid deprecation. 
He dared not go near or speak to her, believing 
she could not but hate him for the harm he had 
done. 

But Estelle whispered in his ear, ^^Go to her ; 
speak to her ; she has been longing and praying 
for your return.” The next moment he was be- 
side her, his head bowed well-nigh to the ground, 
as one might before a patron saint. Hugh and 


The Ivy Vine, 321 

Estelle turned their faces away and looked at 
each other. 

The account Julian gave of himself was that, 
after setting fire to the house of his best friends, 
he had no right to expect any one to regret his 
being dead. It would be easier to bear, even for 
those who cared most for him, than the disgrace. 
He made off that night, struck the railroad at a 
point where he would not likely be known, got 
a job which paid his passage to Cincinnati, and 
thus gradually worked his way to the mines, 
near Pike’s Peak. 

It was Hugh who told what a man he had 
made of himself ; how much good he had done 
among those rough miners, bringing into requisi- 
tion all the unappropriated religious instructions 
of Sunday-school and home for the benefit of 
those who had had none, even starting a night- 
school for those who knew less than he, and were 
willing to learn what he could impart. • 

The owners of the mines had made favorable 
note of him in their visits of inspection, and had 
offered him a higher position, which Julian had 
promptly declined, preferring to remain where 
he could do a little good. He was in ’Frisco on 
business for the company the day Hugh caught 
his first glimpse of him, and was boarding the 
train to carry a message to another mine. The 
21 


322 


The Ivy Vine. 


second time Hugh had succeeded in tracking 
him, and they had a jolly meeting and talk about 
home. 

Since then Hugh had never rested until he 
gained his consent to return. This was no light 
task, and Julian never would agree to any men- 
tion of him in home letters. 

Mrs. Graham could hardly believe her own 
senses, as she had not for a moment doubted 
that her step-son was dead. Indeed, it was diffi- 
cult to believe under any proof that in this tall, 
handsome, manly fellow she saw the awkward, 
disagreeable lad who had given her so much 
trouble. 

Most touching of all was the meeting between 
father and son. Professor Graham happened to 
. come upon the group while they still stood talk- 
ing at the gate, as if loth to admit any one else 
into their fourfold joy. As his custom was, he 
did not look up, nor see them until the sound of 
Julian’s voice startled him. The same moment 
Julian wheeled, and recognizing his father, 
knelt before him in honest penitence, murmur- 
ing, ‘Tather, I have sinned, against heaven and 
thee. I am no more worthy to be called thy 
son !” 

And the man esteemed cold, could only sob out 
his gladness on the shoulder of his lost and recov- 
ered son. 


CHAPTER XXXL 


Gossiping Among the Ivy Leaves. 

A XOTHER year has passed. The Ivy Vine 
planted by the ^AVe fouP’ girls has grown 
in many ways. In the first place, our four early 
acquaintances, at that time in the eager fiush 
of their teens, are now to women grown; some 
have even taken upon themselves the crowning 
glory of womanhood. Yet we have not much 
difficulty in recognizing those who are left. Lu- 
cille, Mrs. Dr. Baylor, has been obliged, by the 
increasing cares of her household, to resign the 
leadership. As the President rises and taps for 
order, we know it can be none other than Effie, 
for we see in her the gracious fulfilment of her 
girlhood’s prophecy. VTiile each repeats a 
chosen motto, and the minutes of the last meet- 
ing are being read, we look around for other 
familiar faces. There is Berta, as beautiful as 
ever. We might miss somewhat of the dash and 
brilliance of her youthful hauteur, but it is well 
supplanted by an imperial self-poise, and her 
eye and smile are no less bright than they were 
the evening Russell Brent sent a search-light 
into the blue depths. 


324 


The Ivy Vine. 


Close by the table of the leader, in the secre- 
tary, so busy with pencil and paper, we find 
another old friend — Olive Baylor. A happy 
content broods in her sweet face that is good for 
heartache, and seems to hint of the reward a 
patient, loving soul has found, even in this 
world. And Agnes ! what a lovely face ! The 
broad, intellectual forehead and thoughtful 
brow, over which the brown kinklets have ample 
room to play; the eye, so quick to kindle into 
enthusiasm, and the mouth so ready for a re- 
sponsive smile. 'No wonder the students go 
wild over her. And little Agatha Wallace? 
Yes, there she is^ with her eyes of blue and her 
hair of gold. Her face still has the look of child- 
like innocence, which makes one think of angels ; 
hut in the last two years it has taken on a kind 
of matronly dignity, rather enhancing than 
otherwise. Lena McBride is as ready, as merry, 
and as good-hearted as ever, though she has 
learned to curb the impulsive boisterousness and 
bluntness, which had once been the regret of her 
friends. Virgie Wallace is conspicuously ab- 
sent. She rarely leaves home, we are told, or 
goes where her mother does not care to go. We 
must not overlook little Selina Lindsay. Her 
busy little fingers hardly know how to keep still, 
and she does such beautiful work, and finds such 


The Ivy Yine. 


325 


ready sale for it, the girls have been obliged to 
limit her contributions to the Ivy Vine to the 
proceeds of work done at the meetings. Her 
face has lost its expression of placid, pathetic 
patience and suffering, for she has gotten well. 
Dr. Graeme Gordon, who is now practicing in 
Bridgeton, in the course of his medical studies, 
stumbled upon a remedy which had not been 
tried — skin-grafting— and it has proved a suc- 
cess. Each member of the Ivy Vine contributed 
to the grafts from her own healthy young skin. 
Hence Selina says she is literally a part of the 
Ivy Vine now. The rest of the faces we do not 
know so well. Besides, Effie is rapping for at- 
tention again, and, having intercepted a very 
smiling glance between herself and Berta, we are 
curious to know what she has to say. 

have a piece of good news she announces. 
^^Our first President reached town last night, 
and, as we have gotten through all business 
demanding our attention, I will call her in.’’ 

She opens the door, and Mrs. Armstrong 
stands beaming upon them. 

It was such a complete surprise, they threw 
away dignity and forgot they were not girls 
again — forgot she was not ^^Miss Edmonia” 
still. 

The meeting was rather prolonged that day. 


32G 


The Ivy Vine. 


yet many unfinished narratives had to be left 
over for another day. 

Monday morning early Effie called. 

^‘Where’s Berta came naturally to her old 
friend’s tongue, ^fit doesn’t seem right to see 
one without the other.” 

^“^Berta is coming but she wanted to bring 
Brother Bussell with her, and he had gone down- 
town.” 

^^That’s so, you are both married. I can 
hardly realize it.” 

^^Yes. Graeme said I did not need to show 
him off ; you knew him of old.” 

^‘Indeed I did. He was a dear fellow, and I 
am sure you have done well. I am as glad as 
I can be for you both. Berta’s choice did sur- 
prise me a little, because I only heard of him 
as one of Hannie Lindsay’s unfortunates.” 

^^He says — ” began Effie. 

^^You had better lea^’^ me to explain,” inter- 
posed Mr. Brent,, entering at the moment with 
his wife. He sat down in front of Mrs. Arm- 
strong. ^^You see,” he said, bending toward her, 
with all the earnestness of a lawyer addressing 
his jury, ^^you see, in Kentucky, men, as well 
as horses, are born racers. It is contrary to na- 
ture to let any one come out ahead of us. I 
really was a little bit infatuated at first. She 


The Ivy Vine. 


327 


was pretty and bright, you know ; but that night 
at the college party — ’’ 

^^'Now, Russell, you are not in the confes- 
sional!” Berta held up a threatening finger, 
but she blushed and dimpled so charmingly it 
only tempted him on. 

^‘From that time it was only the fun of the 
game for me. Her light had gone down before 
a brighter, though I don’t believe I ever did 
quite convince Comes I was simply holding the 
fort for him against the Professor. And now 
even the old porcupine — but I must not call him 
names any longer, since he is boarding at the 
Wallaces and in love with Miss Virgie. I tell 
you what, Mrs. Armstrong, Avhen these Ivy Vine 
girls get hold of a man, there is no telling what 
they will not do with him I Why, look what 
Berta has done with me — 1” He dodged as he 
saw her fan-hand rising, but went on, ^^If only 
Comes — ” The playfulness died out of his 
tone; the dimples vanished from her cheeks. 
Mr. Brent threw back his head and stroked his 
moustache a thoughtful moment. 

^What has become of your friend?” Mrs. 
Armstrong asked, to break the pause. 

^Tle went back to his plantation. There was 
no inducement to stay here after Miss Lindsay’s 
death.” 


328 


The Ivy Vine. 


interrupted Berta, ^^Agnes tells me he 
has been back several times to see her Uncle 
Felix. They are devoted to each other since Mr. 
Graham took care of him in his sickness.’’ 

cannot hear to think of him dovm there in 
the lonely solitude of his plantation,” said 
Brent, feelingly. ^^However,” brightening 
again, ^Te has promised me a visit next winter, 
and Berta and I will do our best to marry him 
off to one of our pretty Kentucky girls.” 

Here Olive Baylor and Agnes Graham were 
ushered in. 

^^Doesn’t this look like the dear old times?” 
Mrs. Armstrong glanced from one to the other 
in her own loving way. 

^^And I had better decamp, or you Avill be 
grafting me into the Ivy Vine,” Brent said, 
rising. ^^Mrs. Armstrong, you and your good 
man had better come out to our town and help 
Berta start a new plant.” 

have already started one,” said Berta, mod- 
estly, ^Tut I would give anything if it could 
have you at the beginning, as we had.” She 
gave a brief account of her flourishing little Ivy 
slip in Kentucky. Then she and Effie rose 
to go. 

^^Kow, Olive, you and Agnes must tell me all 
about Estelle. It hardly seems like the Bridge- 


The Ivy Vine. 329 

ton where we started our Ivy Vine without 
Estelle/’ 

^^es/’ said Agnes, ^^Estelle was a regular 
sneak. When Uncle Felix thought she ought 
to go ol¥ to school first, and I afterward, she said, 
^Oh ! no ; nothing would induce her to leave 
home,’ and he and I both thought she was in 
earnest. But when Hugh came — ” 

^^Ah ! but Hugh is such a good beggar,” inter- 
posed Olive, ^^and Estelle never thinks of her- 
self. I just know how he worked on her sym- 
pathies with his tales of home sickness and the 
good she might do. Besides, Julian — ” She 
caught herself up with a flush. 

^Wes,” resumed Agnes, opportunely, Julian 
went back with them ; but don’t you think. Miss 
Edmonia, he is coming home to study medicine, 
and then going back to practice among the 
miners. And, Olive — mav I tell ?” She looked 
teasingly at Olive, who blushed again. 

^‘You do not need to tell,” Mrs. Armstrong 
laughed, laying her hand on each girl, as in the 
olden time. ^^And so you and Estelle, and Hugh 
and Julian, will be together; how nice that will 
be!” 

^^Some time while you are here, I must show 
you some articles Estelle has been writing for 
the Lynchburg Portfolio on the ^Tlowers of 


330 


The Ivy Vine. 


California/’ and illustrating them herself. 
Father and Uncle Felix are so proud of her.” 

^^And what of Agnes’ own self?” 

Agnes answered, with demure readiness, ^^Oh ! 
I am teaching at the Academy.” But her eyes 
were sparkling with a happy mystery. Evi- 
dently she had something to whisper in the ear. 
Perhaps it was that Stanley Sinclair had asked 
her if she would be willing to go to China with 
him, if he so decided; and she had told him, 
if he did not go, she might go without him, 
as she had so intended ever since Miss Mor- 
rison had read to them the history of the girl- 
wife. 

Mrs. Armstrong was just saying, ^^You have 
told me nothing of the Wallaces as yet,” when 
Lucille (Mrs. Dr. Baylor) and Agatha entered. 
Mrs. Baylor had the same grave sweetness of 
expression; the same smile, never too sunny 
to be sympathetic. 

^Wou will have to come to see mamma and 
Yirgie,” they said. ^^Mamma sees so badly now 
she rarely goes out, and Virgie does not like to 
leave her.” 

After a little more gossip, the girls began, in 
turn, to question the questioner. She very 
gladly told them her husband had been preach- 
ing at the same place, Clump Creek, until now ; 


The Ivy Vine. 


331 


had recently received a call to a churcli in 
Lynchburg, and had gone to preach for them. 

^‘Oh ! I am so glad V cried Agatha, delight- 
edly. ^^Then you are going to be our pastor !” 

Mrs. Armstrong laughed with the girls at 
Agatha’s way of telling her secret, and said it 
would certainly he an inducement, if the de- 
cision rested with her. 

^^Yes, I must go to see Mrs. Wallace and 
Virgie,” Mrs. Armstrong said to herself, think- 
ing sadly of what Agatha had told her. From 
some one else she had learned that Mrs. Wallace 
was almost blind. 

Professor Carter opened the door for her the 
afternoon she called, and she had hardly waited 
a moment in the home-like, well-remembered 
parlor, when Mrs. Wallace came in, extending 
her hand, and saying, in her old, cordial way, 
^^It is so sweet of you to come to see us without 
waiting. Come, sit on the sofa by me, and Yir- 
gie will be down in a moment. Yes, Professor 
Carter boards with us now, and we like him so 
much. You knoAV, the girls used to think he 
must be horrid, to be so harsh with the students ; 
but we know now they just did not understand 
each other. He could not be more gentle and 
kind to me if he were my own son.” 

She was as cheerily interested in everything 


332 


The Ivy Vine. 


as of yore, and there was but slight hint of her 
blindness, either in her movements or appear- 
ance. ^^Surely,’’ her visitor thought, ^^her trou- 
ble has been exaggerated to me.’’ 

Later, when Virgie had taken her mother’s 
place, and sent her to give out supper, she no- 
ticed her visitor’s look of surprised inquiry. 

^^Oh ! yes ; mamma still keeps house,” she 
said. ^^It is such a gratification to her to think 
she can, and it keeps her from realizing how rai> 
idly her sight is failing.” The girl’s voice sank 
almost to a sob; hut she chirped up immedi- 
ately, to explain how they all had learned to be 
careful to keep everything in its accustomed 
place. ^Tor instance, when she washes the break- 
fast dishes, she always puts each cup and saucer 
and plate in the very same spot, so that if she 
has need of any article during the day, she can 
go and put her hand right on it. Of course, the 
rest of us try to be equally particular. Then, we 
try to keep the way clear all about tlie house — no- 
thing for her to stumble over, so she can go w^bere 
she pleases without fear or helplessness. One 
day last week Lucille’s little Agatha was staying 
with us. I had put her to bed, and thought she 
was asleep, when she opened her eyes with a 
scared look, and said, ^^Oh ! auntie, my blocks — 
down ’tairs — danmamma fall !” She scrambled 


The Ivy Vine. 


333 


out of bed before I knew what she was doing, 
and trotted off down stairs to get them.’’ 

^‘Virgie, you are the sweetest daughter I ever 
knew !” Mrs. Armstrong exclaimed, with loving 
-warmth. 

^^3)o you think so ?” tears of gratified affection 
filling her eyes. ought to be, for I have the 
sweetest mother anybody ever had !” 


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